


that's what the water gave us

by sleeponrooftops



Series: how big, how blue, how beautiful [4]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Explicit Language, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7731871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Icarus crew have arrived at their final destination as they embark upon a mission to renew mankind’s faith in the unknown: Europa, the ice moon of Jupiter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes —
> 
> i. Same rules apply as before. See previous fic for series notes.  
> ii. EUROPA. Yes, this is the last fic in the series, guys. I’m estimating about five chapters in length, which I know is not a lot, but to stay with the same structure we’ve had, there will be a chapter per month, and then a special one at the end.

_January 10, 2074_

_1000 hours_

He inhales.

 

Jupiter hangs in the sky above them, encompassing everything but his periphery, which lingers in quick glimpses through space.  He feels small here, like everything that he has done up to this moment amounts to nothing when he sits beneath Jupiter’s glory.

 

He thinks about growing up on tales of Juno’s descent into Jupiter’s orbit, the secrets that were uncovered, and, really, how that birthed much of the tech he’s built today.  He thinks about absolutely _losing it_ when Vogel set off a bomb in space, about all of the chaos surrounding Mars and how badly he wanted to be right there with them, to dig gloved fingers in Martian soil and feel at home.  He thinks about this moment, sitting on an ice moon and staring out at the deadliest and largest of all the planets, and wonders what they’ll write about the Icarus crew.

 

Tony exhales.

 

——

 

_1300 hours_

“Okay, but,” Thor says, “Isn’t it better to be well-rounded than to specialize in one particular field?”

 

“You’re not an expert in any particular field, though,” Bruce points out, “All of us have specific duties because we are relative experts in our fields.”

 

“You can be a relative expert all you want,” Tony chimes in, “I’m just a fucking expert.”

 

“In several fields,” Johnny points out.

 

“It’s a little disturbing how much of a god complex you have for him,” Thor says.

 

From this distance, it’s hard to make out Johnny’s middle finger going in the air, but Thor still laughs heartily at him.  They’re about a mile away from Icarus, spread out in a marked area, while Johnny inspects the outside of their ship.

 

“I would call you well-rounded, then,” Thor says to Tony, “You’re an expert in several different fields.”

 

“I told you it was a good idea to keep him,” Tony says.

 

“And yet,” Bruce says, “We’re the ones out here right now.”

 

“I’d like to point out that we’re also out here,” Betty says sharply.

 

Bruce straightens and turns slowly until he can find her, just over a mile away, with her hands firmly pressed into her hips.  “You’re not really doing anything, though, are you?”

 

“Well, that was rude,” Tony mutters.

 

“Thank you, Tony,” Betty says, “You’re not getting laid tonight.”

 

“Space boning,” Tony says cheerily, “I’m not actually a huge fan of it.”

 

“I resent that,” Steve says, and they all dissolve into laughter.

 

“Shit,” Thor says as he drops his tools, “I love this crew.  I’m so glad we saved your asses.”

 

“We would have been just fine without you,” Bucky says from his place with Johnny.

 

“And you would have been off course and still traveling.  We’re awesome, just admit it.”

 

Silence follows.

 

Wanda breaks it, “We’re very busy, also.  This is a very delicate decision.”

 

Tony caps a sample, clicks it onto his belt, and says, “I say you just punch a hole in.”

 

“Don’t be stupid,” Bruce says, “It’s not a flattering color on you.”

 

“Realistically,” Tony says, starting to look over at him and getting caught up in Jupiter’s view on the way.  Bruce sighs when he doesn’t continue, and Tony allows a few more seconds before he says, “Shut up, I was admiring how fucking cool this life we’re living is.  Realistically, that’s ultimately what we’re going to do.  The fist is a metaphor for a drill.  And how long have you been standing over there?” he directs to the trio of ladies grouped together, “Have you really not decided on a good place to drill yet?”

 

“There are quite a few—” Natasha breaks off, and, when she continues, she sounds aggravated, “—anomalies to consider.”

 

“Wait,” Thor says.

 

“Shut up, no,” Nat says quickly, “It’s just bizarre, okay.  We’re not exactly in Kansas anymore.”

 

“Maybe,” Tony begins.

 

“Shut up, Tony,” they all chorus.

 

“I have to say, I enjoy these EVA suits much better,” Steve says, and Tony looks over to find him walking away from Icarus.

 

“Watney-approved,” Tony says, “He always has a lot of input into the designs of the suits.”

 

“Considering he’s spent the most time in them, I would hope,” Steve says, “Nat, what kind of anomalies?”

 

“They’re hard to explain.”

 

Steve makes his way slowly over to them, past Tony, Bruce, and Thor collecting samples, and though he tries not to stop and stare, Jupiter is hard to avoid gawking at.  Eventually, he makes it to the three women, who have migrated a few feet.  Betty is still standing with hands on her hips, glaring at the surface below them while Nat is flat against the ground, Wanda sitting next to her and taking notes.

 

“Okay,” Steve says, frowning, “This is reminiscent of that terrible movie.”

 

“ _Europa Report_?” Betty guesses, “If there’s a giant glowing alien octopus beneath the surface, I’m never going back into space.  In fact, I might sleep on the way home.”

 

“That’s a high fucking unlikelihood,” Nat grumbles, “It’s just bioluminescence.”

 

“So life,” Betty says.

 

“Not yet,” Nat says, “We have no proof.  It could be energy.  Radiation.”

 

“It could be an organism in its infancy stages.  Why is it under the surface if it’s just energy?”

 

“Stop looping back to this conversation,” Steve says, “Until we can get under the surface and observe whatever it is, we won’t know.  Are we at a standstill because of it?”

 

“Yes,” they say together.

 

“I vote we try to avoid it as much as possible,” Betty says.

 

“If it is a microorganism,” Natasha says, “They’ll move if we drill in.”

 

“Unless they’re not sophisticated yet to sense danger.”

 

“You need, like—one cell to do that,” Natasha argues, “This spot is as good a spot as any of the other ones we’ve looked at.  We’re wasting time.”

 

“I agree,” Steve says, “If it’s a lifeform, it will avoid the drill.  If it’s not, we’ve got plenty of other ones to look at.”

 

“Question,” Wanda says, lifting her hand, “Are we going to get to swim in it?”

 

“We’re not even sure it’s water yet,” Natasha says, “Though I’m 98% sure it is.”

 

“How are you so sure?” Steve asks.

 

When Nat turns to him, her excitement is infectious.  “Look at it, Steve,” she says, “Literally all you have to do is look, and you’ll see it.  We’re standing over a lake, probably, maybe an ocean.  I would need to keep walking to judge its length.  A mile out that way, toward the boys, it becomes solid ice.  Like a shore.  This is water.  Yes, we’re swimming in it.”

 

“Nat—”

 

“ _Steve_.  If you get to fucking drink it, I’m swimming in it.”

 

“Oh, damn it,” Betty says, “You volunteered for that?”

 

“How did you know about that?” Steve asks, and then sighs, “Bruce?”

 

“Obviously,” she says, “He wouldn’t tell me who was doing it, just that it was a test we’d be attempting.  He’s going to try to convince you to let the rest of us try it if you don’t die.”

 

“That’s reasonable,” Steve says, “Though there may be long term effects, so we will need some controlled variables.”

 

“Water, Steve,” Natasha says, “There’s _water_.”

 

“Water equals life,” Betty says, and Nat’s too excited to argue with her.

 

——

 

_1700 hours_

“Does it beep at you when it’s done?” Johnny asks.

 

“That was a dumb question, even for you,” Thor says.

 

Johnny sighs and sips at his water.  “Do you think it will ever get old?” he asks after a moment of quiet.

 

“Jupiter?”  Johnny hums.  “Not a chance.”

 

“Yeah,” he says, “I agree.”

 

They’re sat together, one of the last EVAs of the day to collect data on the radiation from both Jupiter and Europa, and though Steve reminded them that they didn’t need to sit with the tools, everyone felt more comfortable with someone to watch over their equipment.

 

“I can’t imagine what it would be like,” Johnny says, “To live with a planet hanging in your sky every day.  I mean, I know we have the moon, but it’s so insubstantial when you wake up every morning, and Jupiter is still there.”

 

“Or two suns.”

 

“Man, I want to go to Kepler so bad.”

 

“I think you might be dead by the time we figure that out,” Thor says, and Johnny nods sadly, “Tony should figure out cell freezing.”

 

“Shit, man, I don’t want to be immortal.  Fuck _that_.”

 

“Are you ever going back into space?” Thor asks.

 

Johnny exhales a laugh and says, “Honestly, probably not.  I know that Peter wants to, but I think I’m all set.  This was enough adventure for one lifetime.”

 

“You do tend to panic a lot.”

 

“Shut up, asshole.”

 

“Just dropping a truth bomb in your lap.”

 

Johnny emits an obnoxious noise at him, and Thor laughs softly before they fall silent again, just letting their gazes drift around them.  Thor’s been on plenty of Weapon X-approved, NASA considered illegal, missions into space, but this—this is nothing like he’s ever experienced.  It makes him never want to leave, to make a home for himself on one of these remote planets and learn the lay of the land.

 

“Hey Steve,” Thor says, tapping into the general comms channel.

 

“Thor,” Steve acknowledges.

 

“I’ve got about three hours left of oxygen.  I’m taking a walk, okay?”

 

“Please be careful,” Steve says.

 

“You good alone, hot pants?”  Johnny gives him a thumbs up, not shifting his gaze from Jupiter, and Thor smiles over at him before slowly getting to his feet.

 

He gets about two miles out before he stops, shifting until he can settle onto one knee and then the other, extending his hands out in front of him before he lifts upright and lowers to the ground, helmet holding him up.  He flattens a hand against the ice, his grin widening as he watches the bioluminescence dart about below him.  They’re not present everywhere, but this far out, lying on a stretch of water, Thor can see them dancing all around him.

 

“Please be real,” he whispers, “Please be—I don’t know— _fish_.”

 

——

 

_January 16, 2073_

_0700 hours_

Bucky finds Sam frowning at his readings.  He drops a kiss to his shoulder and extends the hand holding a mug of coffee, but Sam doesn’t see it, instead flicking furiously through his reports.  “Hey,” Bucky says, leaning his temple against Sam’s jaw, looking down at the readings, “What’s wrong?”

 

Sam shrugs him off, and Bucky goes, unhurt by the action as he takes his seat next to Sam, setting the coffee down.

 

“These readings aren’t right,” Sam says, stopping on one to zoom in and peer more closely at the numbers, “Something isn’t right.”

 

“The readings aren’t right, or something isn’t right?” Bucky says, “Because those are two very different things to be concerned about.”

 

“Both,” Sam says, though he sounds like he disagrees with that statement, “Both is good, both is bad, I don’t _know_.  It’s all bad, no matter what way you squint at it.”

 

“Alright,” Bucky says, pulling his legs up to fold them before he reaches for his own tablet, “Talk me through it.”

 

“The readings have to be wrong.  If they’re not, we’re fucked.”

 

Bucky frowns at the image Sam throws him.  “We’ve barely been here for two weeks.”

 

“I don’t think Europa cares,” Sam mutters, still researching.

 

“I think it’s Jupiter that’s causing the problem,” Bucky says, “That is who this is coming from, right?”

 

“Look at how much they’re fluctuating,” Sam says, tossing him another image, “That’s abnormal, even for Jupiter.”

 

“What does it mean?” Bucky asks.

 

“Okay,” Sam says, standing up, “Okay.  Jarvis, can I borrow you?”

 

“Of course, sir.  How can I be of assistance?”

 

“Remember that time Tony was frustrated with his designs and wanted a more comprehensive look, so you—ah, thank you,” he breaks off when Jarvis starts projecting screens in a circle around Sam.  “Come here,” he directs to Bucky, who steps into the expanding circle with him, following Sam’s hands as he starts explaining, “These span a few decades, ever since Juno, really, with observations of Jupiter’s radiation activity.  He’s got this field like no one else in our solar system.  Just—throwing shit out there all the time.  Now, Earth has a crap ton of satellites, and we’re always pulling shit in, which Jupiter does, too, but he puts a lot _out_ , as well.  Most of it is invisible to the naked eye, and so we’ve always estimated just how far the reach of his awesomeness was.  Juno helped clarify _a lot_ of that, but there’s still a lot that we don’t know purely because it’s space, and space doesn’t cooperate.  However—yes, I’m getting to the point, stop looking at me like that—all of this—” he waves his hands in a nondescript gesture at the cluster of screens in front of them, “—are pretty comprehensive.  We can get a general picture.”

 

Sam turns sharply to the right, and Bucky follows, shoulders knocking together.  “This—” he indicates the new screens they’re looking at, “—are radiation reports from all of those decades, as well.  Basically a weather report of how badass Jupiter has decided to currently be.”

 

He turns again, careening them over in the opposite direction.  “This was mine, and NASA’s, prediction of the kind of radiation we would be facing while on Europa.  A lot went into the timeframe of our mission, and while the trajectory was obviously a main focal point, it was also where Jupiter was in its mostly typical radiation weather patterns.”

 

“Sam,” Bucky says softly, “Why mostly typical?”

 

“You know why,” Sam says, turning them a last time.

 

Bucky exhales loud enough that Sam nods.  “Space is atypical,” Bucky says, “We should talk to Steve.”

 

“Are you going to blame Tony?” Sam asks.

 

“What?”  Bucky turns to him, confusion clear on his face.  “Jesus, no,” Bucky finally says, understanding, “You’ve been looking at radiation patterns all along.  If something like this was possible, you would have spoken up before we agreed to enter near warp speed.  As much as I dislike him, an abnormal radiation storm is not Tony’s fault.  Space is hostile.”

 

“So is Tony,” Sam says.

 

“He’s volatile.  There’s a difference.”

 

“Is there?” Sam challenges.

 

“Space is a furious, unruly, terrifying force that we probably shouldn’t even venture near, let alone in.  Tony’s just an asshole.”

 

“Okay,” Sam says, “Let’s talk to Steve.”

 

——

 

_0800 hours_

“Here,” Tony says, stopping.

 

“Jesus, Tony,” Steve says when he nearly collides with him but sidesteps at the last moment, “A little warning would be nice.”

 

“You shouldn’t be walking directly behind me,” Tony says, reaching out to poke him in the chest, “Look.”

 

“I was— _oh_.”

 

“Yeah,” Tony says, turning to face the swelling ocean stretching out before them.  There are tiny fissures in the ice, and the eerie blue glow that the ladies had observed when they first arrived as running rampant through this part of the moon.

 

“Is it—cracking?” Steve asks warily.

 

“Not in a dangerous way,” Tony says, “Though I advise against venturing out further until we’ve tested it more.”

 

“We’ve already ventured pretty far,” Steve says, indicating behind them.

 

“Well, Thor was being dumb,” Tony says, “It’s his fault, we’ll blame it on him later.”

 

“He said he only walked two miles.”

 

“He did.  In the wrong direction,” Tony says, “He said he was aiming for the same path he’s been taking, but Jupiter was exceptionally exquisite, or whatever the hell Shakespearean alliterations he was using at the time, and ended up two miles northwest instead.  It’s not cracking _enough_ , but it appears that it’s getting enough warmth, as minimal as it is, to crack just a wee bit.  Also, I have a theory.”

 

“Is it the fish theory?”

 

“Did Thor tell you about it already?” Tony asks, looking crestfallen.

 

Steve smiles at him.  “He’s been rambling on about it for a few days now.”

 

“Well, I share his theory, but I have more evidence to back it up,” Tony says, inhaling as he prepares.

 

“He told me about their movement as evidence, too.”

 

Tony deflates.  “God _damn_ it.  I don’t like him anymore.  He may be fucking _sexy_ , but he’s still my thunder.”

 

“An appropriate name, then,” Steve muses, “Are you sure we can’t walk on it?”

 

“ _Steeeeeeve_ ,” Tony says, drawing out his name, “Do you want to be daring?  I like this side of you.  Let’s do it.  Go, go, go.”  He starts nudging Steve out toward the ice, and Steve laughs before he begins to carefully pick his way across the ice.  It doesn’t budge under his weight, though he doubts this treacherous moon would give them warning before it collapsed underfoot.

 

“Did you hear the new word he’s been using?” Steve asks.

 

“ _Forsooth_ ,” Tony groans, “Betty’s playing games with my heart, and she picked _Lord of the Rings_ for the next book club book.  He sounds more like a royal figurehead every day.  It’s obnoxious.”

 

“It’s not a bad word.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“I know you mean love!”

 

“Oh my god, you didn’t.  You _did not_ just Wade Wilson me.”

 

Steve just laughs.

 

——

 

_0900 hours_

“Oh, how you doin’, baby?” Wanda sings when she looks up and finds Thor approaching, who points to himself, beaming.  “Brother, wanna thank your mother for a butt like that, can I get some fries with that shake-shake boobie?”

 

“Wanda!” Thor exclaims, “Straight up, wait up, hold up, Mister Lover, like Prince said you’re a sexy motha—”

 

“Children,” Betty says, straightening, “We’re trying to work here.”

 

“Buzzkill,” Thor says.

 

“My main squeeze,” Wanda says, “What’s going on?”

 

“Bruce sent me to collect another vial of the Atlantic,” Thor says, stopping at Wanda’s feet and nudging one of hers with his boot.

 

She points a gloved finger at him.  “We’re not naming Europa’s oceans after our own.  That’s absurd.”

 

“We did discover it, though,” Thor says, “All we have to do is plant some potatoes, and we’re basically civilized.”

 

“I’m sorry, sugar, he’s still cooler than you.”

 

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees from several feet away, “Mark Watney’s got us all looking like dweebs.  Personally, I liked Lewis the best, though.”

 

“I’m going to hazard a guess and say you, personally, did not like Johanssen,” Thor says.

 

“For reasons similar to why I think the Steve and Tony plague is a bad one,” Natasha says, “Yes.”

 

“Plague,” Betty says, “That’s cold-hearted.”

 

“Kind of like these—holy fucking shit.”

 

“Say it’s so,” Thor pleads, “Please say it’s so.”

 

Natasha looks up and over to them.  Betty holds her breath as she waits.  “I think you need to come here,” Natasha says, “I can’t make this decision alone.”

 

Wanda starts scrambling, so Thor hauls her upright as Betty takes off at an incredibly slow run.  They make their way over to Natasha, who’s sitting back on her heels, staring into the large hole they’ve opened up into the water below.

 

“Nat,” Betty says as he reaches the opposite edge of the hole before she starts circling around to her.

 

“I think water equals life,” Natasha says, finally looking up.

 

“Oh my god,” Betty says as she reaches her.

 

“Come on!” Thor yells, “Say it’s so!  Wanda!”

 

“I am going as fast as my very short legs will take me, you giant!” she tries to reach out to smack him, but Thor is too far ahead.

 

They skid to a halt next to Natasha and Betty, who has knelt to join her, and Thor grabs Wanda, holding onto her.  “Fish theory,” he whispers.

 

“Confirmed,” Betty says, “There are bioluminescent _fish_ on Europa.”

 

——

 

_1000 hours_

“Next invention,” Sam says, “Faster EVA suit docking time.”

 

“Better idea,” Bucky says, finally getting the door open, “Comms that aren’t affected by radiation flares.”

 

“Radiation _storm_ ,” Sam corrects, “I can’t believe our fucking comms are down.”

 

“Technically, not down,” Bucky says because they are currently communication, “Just malfunctioning.”  He closes the airlock door into Icarus once they’re both on Europa’s surface, turns, and says, “Which it appears Steve is aware of.”  Sam turns to look out at Europa and starts waving when he sees Steve and Tony heading their way.

 

“I think it’s a distance thing,” Sam says even as he starts walking, “We need to be in closer proximity.”

 

It feels like full hours are passing as they make their way across Europa’s surface toward the small specks that they can just make out as Steve and Tony.  Jupiter hangs ominously above them, and Bucky forces himself not to look up.

 

Finally, though, Steve’s voice crackles to life, hard to decipher, but there.  A few hundred feet more, and he comes through clearly, “Can anybody read me?”

 

“I can hear you,” Bucky says quickly.

 

“Communications are malfunctioning due to an approaching radiation storm,” Sam says, “We have to get inside.”

 

“A _what_?” Tony says, “That’s unscheduled.”

 

“I know,” Sam says, “I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

 

“Fucking space,” Tony mutters.

 

Bucky reaches out to catch Sam’s arm, pulling him to a stop.  “Is there anyone else outside?” Bucky asks.

 

“Almost everyone,” Steve says, “Johnny and Quill are working at the base of the nearest mountain formation to the west, about four miles out, and the golden trio went out into the middle of the Atlantic.”

 

“Point number one,” Tony says, “Stop it.  They are not nearly awesome enough to be the golden trio.  Point number two, I agree with Wanda, we should not be naming Europa’s oceans after our own.”

  
“It’s for reference, Tony,” Steve says, his frustration clear, “We have to get everyone back.  Sam, Bucky, can you split up?  Tony will work on the comms, and I’ll start securing Icarus.”

 

“I’ll take the mountains,” Bucky says, already turning away, “Any idea where exactly the girls are, Steve?”

 

“Three miles due east, but they said they were going to split up, keep within sight, but work on different areas.”

 

“Thor, Bruce, and Peter?” Sam asks, starting off in the other direction.

 

“Peter should be with Johnny and Quill, right?” Tony says.

  
“No, he decided to hang back and help Bruce inside.  Be careful, guys.”

 

——

 

_1100 hours_

Peter hits the wall when he rounds the corner too quickly coming into the operations console, but Bruce doesn’t look up, too fixated on performing the lockdown correctly.  “Everything good?” he asks.

 

“I’ve been through every room,” Peter says, “Everything is secure.  Steve just got back, too.”

 

“Everyone else?”

 

“On their way.  I only talked to him for a second.”

 

Peter helps Bruce with the lockdown until Steve comes striding in.  “Tony’s beneath us,” he says, and Bruce quickly pulls up his hands, looking over.

 

“Right on time,” Bruce says, “I was about to close all panels.”

 

“He wanted to check on the wiring from outside first.  How far into lockdown are we?”

 

“Three procedures left,” Bruce says, “We’re cutting it really close, Steve.  It’s approaching fast.”

 

“I know,” Steve says, “Which is why we have to work faster.  Peter, can you help Tony from the inside?”

 

“On it,” Peter says before he turns and starts running.

 

——

 

_1200 hours_

“Johnny?”

 

“I’m reading you.”

 

Peter spins, hand sailing through the air, and Tony lifts his at the last moment, letting Peter collide their hands loudly.  “Betty?” Tony says next.

 

“I’m about two miles out.  We’re not together,” she says.

 

“Why?” Steve asks.

 

“We went farther than planned,” Betty says, “Nat and Wanda were pretty far when Sam reached me.”

 

“And Thor?”

 

“He was with Wanda last I checked.”

 

“How far out were they?”

 

“Too far,” Betty says, “But they’ll be okay.”

 

“I have eyes on Betty,” Johnny says, “I’m with Quill.  Bucky’s almost back to you.”

 

Icarus groans, and Steve swears.  Ten minutes later, Bucky’s striding into the operations console with his helmet held in one hand, in full gear.  “What’s going on?” he asks, “Where is everyone?”

 

“Still out there,” Steve says, and quickly adds when Bucky turns around, “You going back out there won’t help them.”

 

Bucky grits his teeth, but doesn’t move.  And so, they wait.

 

Betty arrives next, immediately going to her lab to deposit her samples.  When she comes into the operations console, Bucky is still in his suit, and Johnny and Quill are just returning.  Sam is not far behind them, and then Natasha reports, “Closing in on Icarus.  I don’t have eyes on Thor or Wanda.”

 

“What?” Steve says.

 

Quill bristles.  “Why not?” he asks.

 

“They were at least three miles away from my site,” Nat says, “I received confirmation that they were turning back, but I haven’t seen them yet.  I can’t reach them through the comms, either.”

 

“Why?” Steve turns to Tony, who’s already typing.

 

“I don’t know,” he says, “I’ll figure it out.”

 

He and Peter disappear five minutes later, Natasha reaches them in twenty, and she’s just storming into the operations console, still dressed sans helmet, when Thor’s voice echoes around them, “Can anyone read us?”

 

“Thor,” Steve says quickly, “Where are you?”

 

There’s a thick, awful silence that wraps around them like a blanket gone cold, and Steve closes his eyes when he Thor says, “We’re not going to make it.”  Something clatters to the ground somewhere within Icarus.

 

“Oh god,” Tony’s voice shatters over the comms.

 

“You don’t know that,” Steve says, trying to keep them strong, “Is Wanda hurt?  Are you?”

 

“No,” Wanda says, her voice strange, “Just—we can see it coming.  There’s no way we’ll make it back in time.”

 

Natasha turns away, saying, “You can’t—”

 

“We’re still trying,” Wanda interrupts her, “Please don’t come out after us.”

 

“Wanda,” Natasha says.

 

“Do not go gentle into that good night,” Wanda says softly, “Old age should burn and rave at close of day.  Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”  Natasha stops, fingers curling in tight.  “Nat, please,” Wanda says.

 

“Don’t do this to me,” Natasha begs.

 

There’s an inhale of breath over the comms, and Thor speaks before Wanda can break, “Though wise men at their end know dark is right.  Because their words had forked no lightning, they do not go gentle into that good night.”

 

“It’s beautiful,” Wanda says, “Even in the face of it.  This storm, it’s—it’s what I imagine our other one looked like.  I didn’t see it, but I remember Steve describing it—the colors of it.  This is something to behold.”

 

“Good men, the last wave by,” Thor continues, “crying how bright their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay.  Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

 

“Oh,” Wanda sighs, “It looks like an aurora.  I’ve always wanted to be caught in one.  A silly dream, I know, but it doesn’t sound so bad.  To die in one, I mean.”

 

“Wanda,” Peter’s voice cracks open, “Please don’t do this.  Please come back.”

 

Steve looks away from the screens and halted code in front of him.  Johnny has one hand pressed to his mouth, his eyes closed, shoulders shrugged up by his ears.  Sam is hidden by Bucky, his body shaking lightly as Bucky’s fingers dig into his back.  Betty is walking across the room toward Natasha, who starts to fight against being touched, but, ultimately, succumbs, her knees hitting the ground as Betty falls with her.  Bruce is unmoving, staring at the lockdown procedures in front of him, and Steve knows he won’t continue, _can’t_ continue, so he steps forward and sets the last one in motion.  Quill is on his way out, and Steve lets him go.

 

“Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, and learn, too late, they grieved it on its way do not go gentle into that good night,” Thor’s voice cuts through him.

 

Steve understands, then.  “Wanda,” he says, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

“Tell Pietro that we found fish.  Tell him that we discovered life, and that it was beautiful.  Tell him that I was happy.”

 

Steve nods quickly, trying to swallow back his sorrow.

 

“Grave men, near death,” Thor continues, “who see with blinding sight, blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay.  Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

 

“Tell him that death is only my next great adventure.”

 

“I will,” Steve promises, “Thor?”

 

“Man, I’m going to miss the surf, that’s all.”

 

“There’s a whole ocean below you to receive you,” Bruce says softly, “And a new life waiting to carry you on its waves.”

 

“Peter,” Wanda says suddenly, “I’m so sorry.  I love you.  Promise me it’s going to be okay.”

 

“ _Wanda_.”

 

“It’s going to be okay, Wanda,” Natasha says softly, “Just breathe.”

 

“Nat, Betty, I don’t—I’m not— _thank you_.  You’ve taught me so much, and I love you more than words can describe.  You’re the best friends a girl could ever have.”

 

“Just breathe,” Natasha repeats as Betty starts to cry.

 

“Steve,” Wanda says, “Thank you for everything.  Thank you for—for being you.  Don’t ever change.  Please.  You are a light in the darkness.”

 

“Wanda—”

 

“And you, my father, there on the sad height,” Wanda says slowly until Thor joins her, “Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.  Do not go gentle into that good night.  Rage, rage against the dying of—”

 

Static cuts through, and fills the void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW, I'M SORRY. Erin and I both cried while reading/writing that, it was awful. I honestly didn't even mean to kill Thor, too, it kind of just happened. Oh, the sorrow!
> 
> Also, I know this is super early, but I read the first fic in this series this morning, for absolutely no reason other than I'm bored at work, and I got crazy excited about them being on Europa again, so I wanted to get this up. To reiterate the opening notes, as well, this will only be five chapters. Maintaining the same structure as the previous fics, the first four chapters will detail their four month expedition on Europa, and the fifth is a surprise, which I'm not giving you any hints about.
> 
> I hope you're enjoying this first month of adventure, and don't forget to leave your thoughts!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew of Icarus grieves in their own way over the loss of Wanda and Thor.

_February 1, 2074_

_0300 hours_

“Steve,” Tony sighs, “You have to sleep.”  He doesn’t respond, and so Tony pushes upright when Steve strides across the room, dropping into the chair at his desk.  He watches him for a few moments until the size of his breaths becomes too short, and then he pads over to him, flicking him when he tries to shrug him away.  “Stop it,” Tony says, winding his arms around him and leaning their temples together, “What can I do?”

 

Steve presses the heel of his palm against his sternum, bowing toward the desk, and Tony holds him tighter, shifting until he can kneel next to him, turning Steve with him.

 

“Talk to me,” he pleads, hands coming up to circle his hips, thumbs pressing in against the sharp bones there.

 

“I can’t,” Steve whispers, not looking at him, but instead down at his lap, where his fingers are curling and uncurling restlessly.

 

“You need to sleep,” Tony says, sliding his hands down to squeeze his thighs before he wraps theirs together, “Please.”

 

“I can’t,” Steve says again.

 

“Steve—”

 

“Every time I try, I hear her voice.”

 

“Okay,” Tony says, getting up and trying to pull Steve with him.  When he resists, Tony yanks, moving Steve through pure surprise at being handled so roughly.  Once he’s on his feet, Tony gives him a shove toward the bed, goes to flick on the lights, and then manhandles Steve back onto the bed when he finds he hasn’t moved.

 

“Shut up,” he says when Steve opens his mouth, “You can’t rage against a fucking light if it’s on.  Lay down.   _Now_.”

 

Steve obeys, lying on his side.  Tony curls up with him, twining their legs together as he draws Steve into his arms, encouraging him to burrow until Steve finally does, holding onto him, and he just starts talking, telling him every possible story he can come up with until his exhales are a little longer, and Tony keeps himself up for another hour just to be sure before he lets sleep overcome him.

 

——

 

_0700 hours_

Tony is the one to answer the door when Natasha comes knocking, and she starts to apologize and backtrack when he sighs and opens the door farther, revealing Steve sitting with his back pressed against the wall.

 

“I’ll start morning procedures,” Tony says before he leaves.

 

Natasha stands unsurely near the door, hands wrapped tightly around her elbows.  “I moved in with Quill,” she says finally, “I know I should have run it by you first, but I—”

 

“Natasha,” Steve says softly, “It’s okay.  I get it.”

 

“Do you?” Nat asks, immediately looking away from him as she tries to swallow back her tears.

 

“I don’t know—how to—I can’t do this,” Steve admits, “I don’t know how to do this.”

 

“Grieve?” Nat says, staring firmly at the wall.

 

“She gave the best hugs,” Steve says.

 

“I hated it,” Nat says, finally breaking as she turns her gaze toward Steve, and she doesn’t bother wiping at her face, “She always knew the exact moment when I needed Clint the most, and she wouldn’t let me go.  It was infuriating.”

 

“She used to sneak me green beans, too.”

 

“Tomatoes,” Nat says, “For my hair, she says.  Said.  Fuck.”

 

Steve holds out a hand, and Nat runs across the room, climbing onto the bed and into Steve’s side, letting him wrap around her.  “I’m so sorry,” Steve whispers as her breaths hiccup past tears and into angry sobs.

 

“I don’t want to say it’s not fair because it’s fucking space, and we could never have controlled that, but it’s not fucking fair.  I just—god, am I awful to say I’m glad she was with Thor?  I can’t even look at Quill, but all I want to say to him is that I’m glad it was Thor if it wasn’t Peter.  I’m glad she had someone—someone she cared about.”

 

“She was getting rather close to him.”

 

Nat pulls back, straightening as she takes a steadying breath, though it doesn’t help much.  “She kissed him,” she says, “Just the once, just to see what it was like, but she was starting to fall for him, I could tell.  He would have been so kind to her, but I was so angry with all of it because of how madly in love with Peter she still was.  Even Johnny, even though she played the furious part, she was still fond of him, and she would forget sometimes, or maybe she was just trying to patch things between them, I don’t know, and— _fuck_ , Steve.  Pietro.  What is he going to do?  How are we going to tell him?  And—oh god.”

 

“The baby,” Steve says, “I know.  I don’t—I don’t know what we’re going to do, how we’re—”

 

“He won’t even know for over a year!” Natasha exclaims, “He won’t—Steve, we have to find a way to tell him.”

 

Steve looks at her, sees the desperation there for some kind of closure, and nods.  “NASA is still receiving reports.  I’ll put it in one.”

 

Nat nods, falling quiet for a few moments before she asks, “Can I just—stay in here for a while?”

 

“Absolutely,” Steve says, drawing her back close against him, “Anything you need.”

 

——

 

_1100 hours_

“Betty?” Bruce asks, pushing open the door to the lab.

 

Betty doesn’t look up from her position at Wanda’s desk, carefully sorting her samples.  “She wouldn’t have wanted everything in a mess like this,” she says when Bruce stops beside her, “She was such a neat freak, but Thor was in here bugging her to hurry up so they could get the water samples back to test, and he promised he’d help her clean up later.  She would have gone mental if she’d seen it all scattered about like this.”

 

“Betty, I don’t think—” Bruce tries, reaching out.

 

Betty slaps his hand away from her.  “I’m not going to break down,” Betty says, “I refuse.”  She jerks out of Wanda’s seat, stalking away from her desk and over to their tables, beginning slide preparation.

 

“Betty—”

 

“That’s enough, Bruce,” she says sharply, “I don’t need your pity, or your  _it’s okay to be upset, Betty_  bullshit.  She would have carried on.  She would have—shit, I forgot to check on the plants.”

 

She turns away from her half-prepared slides and walks quickly across the room, scanning into the botany lab and yanking the door open.  Bruce lets the door close, even waits a few minutes, and then he follows her, frowning when he finds her touching the leaf of one of the tomato plants.

 

“I just,” Betty says.

 

“I know,” Bruce says, “I know.  I loved her, too.”

 

“You loved her smile and her charming personality,” Betty says, whipping around to face him, “You didn’t—you—I’m never going to hear her laugh again, or her—her crazy stories.  They always— _Bruce_.”

 

“They always went on forever,” Bruce says, crossing the room to her and opening his arms.  Betty steps in against him as he closes his eyes.  “She used to talk nonstop during her physicals.  Sometimes, she would bring tea in the afternoon.”

 

Betty pulls back abruptly, wiping furiously at her face.  “I don’t want to do this,” she says, “I don’t want to be like this.”

 

“Okay,” Bruce says, “How about we work in here for a bit, then?”

 

Betty nods quickly, offering him a weak smile.  “Thank you,” she whispers.

 

——

 

_1600 hours_

Johnny looks up and over when there’s a knock on the door before carefully extracting himself from his bed and hurrying over to pull it open, step outside, and frown at Quill.  “Yeah,” Quill says, “Probably not who you were expecting.  Listen, I know you’re busy with Peter and consoling, but Nat moved in without really asking, and I’m kind of being forced to acknowledge that one of my best friends is fucking  _dead_ , and Tony sent out volunteer-only assignments, and I was wondering if you wanted to collect samples with me.”

 

Johnny starts to say absolutely not because he needs to stay with Peter, but, realistically, Peter’s asleep and he needs some fresh air, and so he nods before disappearing back into his room.

 

Quill is staring aimlessly at the wall when he returns, and Johnny thinks he may have just traded an awful situation for a terrible one, but he needs to let his hands be busy with something productive rather than just trying to hold onto Peter as he shatters apart.

 

They’ve gotten mission details, suited up, and are halfway to their destination in under two hours, and Johnny says, without thinking, “That was fast.”

 

“The faster the better,” Quill says, “I can’t keep sitting in there thinking about him, man.  I need to carry on.  He would have given me one hell of a fucking lecture if he saw me moping.”

 

Johnny takes a wild chance, “Good thing he’s not here to see you moping, then.”

 

Quill keeps walking, and Johnny thinks he’s gone  _way_  too far when Quill lets out a short, wretched sounding laugh and says, “Man, that was fucking dark.  Thank you.”

 

“That was about my quota for death humor for the day, so you’re welcome.”

 

Quill punches him in the arm, and they get to work.

 

——

 

_February 13, 2074_

_0900 hours_

 Tony listens to Bruce finishing up with Quill for a physical and mental assessment, waiting until he’s sure they’re nearly at the end before he scans himself in, lifting a hand in a wave.  “Almost ready?” he asks.

 

“Yes,” Bruce says easily before he asks Quill, “Do you have plans today?”

 

“Yeah,” Quill says, shrugging, “Johnny convinced Peter to come collect samples with us today, and Sam said he needed out, so he’s coming, too.”

 

“Excellent,” Bruce says, “I’ll check in with you later.”

 

“Thanks, doc,” Quill sighs before hopping off the table and heading for the exit.  He nods in Tony’s direction as he passes him, and Tony frowns when he’s gone.

 

“How is he doing?” he asks.

 

“That’s confidential,” Bruce says, “How is Steve?”

 

“Rude,” Tony accuses, “He’s—not sleeping well.”

 

“I know,” Bruce admits, “He won’t let me give him anything.”

 

“He blames himself.  He finished the lockdown, so he thinks he’s at fault or some other bullshit,” Tony says, “It’s no one’s fault, but he can’t very well be angry with a fucking planet, can he?  It’s exhausting.”

 

“Are you sure you’ll still up for this?” Bruce asks as he starts putting away his equipment.

 

“We have to be,” Tony says, “No one else is in the right frame of mind for this.”

 

“And you cleared it with Steve?”

 

“Not—exactly.”

 

“ _Tony_.”

 

Tony smiles as Bruce folds his arms across his chest, frowning at him.  He widens it when Bruce doesn’t budge, and then finally settles for waving a hand nondescriptly at him and saying, “It’s not like we’re shooting them out into space.  We’re retrieving their bodies.”

 

“We haven’t even discussed what we’re going to do with them,” Bruce says, “I told you I wanted Steve’s okay before we brought them back.  We—Natasha.”

 

Tony turns as Bruce’s eyes flood with fear, and he thinks of no less than six ways to make this less awkward, but they’re all awful, and so instead he says, “We were trying to figure out what to do with Wanda and Thor’s bodies.  What are you up to?”

 

Bruce makes a noise behind him, but Natasha offers Tony the first smile she’s dared in almost three weeks.  “Can I come with you?” she asks.

 

Bruce starts, “I don’t think—”

 

“Yes,” Tony says, “Our original plan was to bring them back here.”

 

“Use your brain, Tony,” Nat says, coming into the room, “We can’t bring them back onto Icarus.  They’ll—they’ll decompose.  Being outside is better right now.”  She lifts her arms, hands wrapping around her elbows as she looks away from them.

 

Tony hates to see her like this, a strong and fearsome being reduced to someone cautious and unsure.  “Okay,” he says, “Full disclosure, this is awful.  We could always release them to the elements.”

  
“Jesus, Tony,” Bruce says from behind him, “Have a little—”

 

“I like that,” Natasha says, “It would be what both of them would have wanted.  Can we—I dunno, have a service or something, maybe?”

 

“Absolutely,” Bruce says, coming forward, “We can do it where they are, if you’d like.”

 

Natasha nods and says, “I’m going to find Peter and Quill and let them know.”

 

When she’s gone, Tony slumps, shaking his head.  “That was fucking hard,” he says, “I didn’t know what to expect.”

 

“You nearly got yourself killed,” Bruce says, punching his shoulder, “Come on.  Change of plans.  Go talk to Steve.  I’ll tell Betty.”

 

“Oh, fun,” Tony mutters, though he leads the way.

 

They gather everyone together an hour later, and Jupiter is high in the sky when they arrive at the incident site.  They were only about two miles out when the storm hit, and though it had left Icarus groaning and Bucky constantly checking the readings while trying to comfort Sam, Wanda and Thor are close together, as though they’d been holding onto one another tightly when they were hit.

 

They form a loose circle, and everyone says something before some of them depart, not wanting to stay.  Tony and Bruce lead the disposal.  Steve, Nat, and Quill remain to help them.

 

They sit together for four hours until Wanda and Thor’s bodies have frozen beyond recognition and then slowly broken apart.  They leave before the subzero temperature of space has turned them into nothing more than dust, and Quill is having trouble walking back, so Nat winds an arm around him, and they support each other back to Icarus.

 

——

 

_February 26, 2074_

_0900 hours_

Betty looks up when the lab door opens, admitting Nat.  “Okay,” she says as she strides over, “Enough of this.”

 

“Enough of what?” Betty asks, looking at her strangely.  Nat plucks the slide from Betty’s hand and breaks it against the table.  “Natasha!”

 

“Enough,” Nat says, “We came here for a reason, and Wanda would have _murdered_ us if she knew we were wasting our time.”

 

“We’re not—”

 

“We are.  I want to go in.”

 

“You—what?” Betty says, blinking rapidly, “Please clarify.”

 

Nat folds her arms over her chest and says, “I want to prepare a dive into the Atlantic.”  Betty doesn’t correct her naming of one of Europa’s oceans, though that’s mostly due to the fact that she’s trying not to show Natasha how much she wants to agree until she says, “I want both of us to go in,” and then Betty just gives up, grinning.

 

“Okay,” she says, “Let’s get to work.”

 

——

 

_1300 hours_

_Betty: Nat and I are going for a swim._

_Nat: I say we grill fish for dinner._

_Peter: YOU ARE NOT_

_Peter: That’s so awful._

_Johnny: Fish are friends, not food._

_Betty: Okay, Bruce._

_Betty: Not you._

_Bruce: Listen, I’m cultured, I understood the reference._

_Bruce: Also, I agree with Peter.  That’s awful._

_Tony: Two points._

_Tony: No grill._

_Tony: Alien fish._

_Nat: You know, I fucking hate everything._

_Nat: I was waiting to respond to Thor’s stupid comment about “alien” fish._

_Quill: Aw, fuck._

_Quill: Me too._

_Steve: Water’s officially secure for testing if anyone wants to drown their sorrows._

_Peter: I’m in.  Also, I’m taking some for a few of the plants.  It’s on the scheduled list of experiments._

_Sam: I’m down.  Got any alcohol to go with it?_

_Tony: Alcohol is flammable, idjits._

_Peter: Chocolate._

_Sam: Oh, so agreed, my little spider butt._

_Sam: Dark chocolate.  It was Wanda’s favorite._

_Peter: I’m smiling.  Is that morbid?_

_Johnny: No way.  You’re healing._

_Tony: God, you all are such saps._

_Nat: It’s disgusting._

_Peter: RUDE_

_Nat: Go cry about it._

_Peter: Be careful you don’t drown._

_Steve: Is this good-natured?_

_Nat: Don’t report me!_

_Peter: Danger, Will Robinson!_

_Steve: Okay._

_Steve: Tony, do you have a copy of that?_

_Sam: AW, STEEB_

_Bucky: HA_

_Bucky: OH MY GOD_

_Bucky: NASAL NOSE STEEB_

_Steve: Shut up, asshole._

_Bruce: OH SNAP_

_Tony: I have that and Lost in Space._

_Tony: I know._

_Tony: Best boyfriend ever._

_Bucky: This is awkward._

_Betty: OH SNAP_

_Nat: SERGEANT BARNES, LEVELING UP_

_Sam: Get at me, bro!_

_Sam: That fine ass is gettin’ feisty!_

_Betty: Okay, but._

_Nat: If anyone wants to come, we’re leaving in two hours._

_Sam: Buck, you wanna get our mermaid on?_

_Bucky: I just—holy shit, you’re awesome._

_Sam: I KNOW_

——

 

_1600 hours_

“Nat, don’t!  Goddamn it.”

 

Betty sighs as she watches Nat soar through the air, tucking her knees in close before she cannonballs into the hole.  The bioluminescent fish scatter quickly, almost disappearing from sight before they swarm back, heading straight for Natasha.  Betty frowns, watching on, and then Nat’s laughing loudly as they start darting around her, creating an intricate, beautiful pattern.

 

“They’re definitely friendly,” she reports, “And super curious.”

 

Betty lowers herself into the water, exhaling when the cold is a little more tangible than before, and then she’s disappearing beneath the surface.  Sam and Bucky are not far behind her, and then it’s just the four of them, into an ancient, unknown world.

 

“Wow,” Betty says, slowly turning.  The deep, dark blue of the ocean stretches out into unchartered waters, as vast and unseen as space above them.

 

“I vote we turn off the headlamps.  Just for a second,” Nat says when Sam looks over at her in horror.

 

“In every scary movie,” Sam says even as he reaches up to turn his off, “everyone dies when the lights go out.”

 

“We have lights,” Nat says, indicating the fish still swimming around them.  They look every bit like normal fish on Earth, but they’re brighter and far more beautiful.  She switches off her headlamp, looking over at Betty and Bucky expectantly.

 

Their world turns inky and a little bit terrifying as they’re plunged into darkness, the only light that of the fish starting to return to their regular patterns.  “They remind me of fireflies,” Bucky says before he reaches up to give them light again.

 

“Alright, everyone tether together,” Betty says, already reaching for Nat.

 

They hook onto each other, a line of astronauts under the sea, and then they begin their exploration, swimming away from their hole and out into the vast ocean.  Bucky casts sensors into the depths every hundred or so feet, and they’re about a half mile out when he says, “Shit.”

 

“Did it reach the bottom?  _Is_ there a bottom?” Nat asks, slowing until she comes to a stop and turning to look at him, where he’s checking readings.

 

“Definitely a bottom,” Bucky says, “Nowhere near as deep as Earth.  Honestly, we might be able to reach it.”

 

“Not today,” Betty says, “No way.  We haven’t done nearly enough research.  We have no idea what could be down there.”

 

“We’re never going to know unless we look,” Bucky says.

 

“So not true,” Sam says, “We have probes that can do this shit for us.”

 

“They can also swim for us,” Bucky says, “And yet, here we are.  Okay.  Fact: we have enough oxygen, and these suits are compatible for deep sea diving.”

 

“Fact,” Nat says, “We all want to.”

 

Betty frowns, not looking away from Natasha until she finally says, “Only if we have permission from Steve.”

 

“Oh, that’s so boring,” Natasha mutters, “You know he’s going to say no.”

 

“Steve!” Sam hollers.

 

“Is everything okay?” Steve replies, sounding scared.

 

Sam quickly amends, “Jesus, sorry.  Yes, everything’s fine.  Listen, we’re swimming to the bottom, cool?”

 

“Not cool,” Steve says, “It’s one thing letting you dive in, another thing entirely letting you endanger yourselves.”

 

“Steve!” Natasha complains, “Come on!  Think about how cool it would be, to touch the bottom of one of Europa’s oceans.”

 

“We have no idea what the makeup of it would be,” Steve says, “It could be lethal.  Absolutely not.”

 

“We won’t touch down, then,” Bucky says, “We’ll just—”

 

“I said no,” Steve says, “Captain’s orders.  Finish up the dive, and get back here for testing.”

 

“Steve,” Natasha says firmly, and then says no more as she frowns at a sudden flash of movement in the ocean.  “Guys,” she says softly, “What was that?”

 

“Don’t say that,” Sam says, already turning, “I hate when people say that.”

 

“There,” Betty says, noting another, “Movement.”

 

“Get back to Icarus now,” Steve says.

 

“It’s probably nothing,” Natasha says, though her voice is different, “It’s probably just—okay, yeah, let’s go,” she adds when the next wave of movement is closer and sharper.

 

They all turn as one, Natasha leading the way as they swim back, moving silently until Sam says, “Can we panic now?”

 

Bucky groans, “Shit, why?”

 

“Whatever it is, it’s right below me.  I’m not looking down, fuck that.”

 

“Keep swimming,” Bucky says, “I’ll look for you.”

 

“We’re all going to die!” Sam whines.

 

“We’re almost at the hole,” Nat says from the front, “We’re not going to die.  Shut up.”

 

“Oh wow,” Bucky says, “Definitely don’t stop swimming, but I’d give it a gander.”

 

“Oh my god!” Betty exclaims when she spots it, “It looks like an eel.”

 

“That’s a huge fucking eel,” Sam says, “Do you think it has electric currents like back home?”

 

Steve comes over the comms, “Let’s not stay and find out.”

 

“I’m at the hole,” Nat says, “Coming through.”

 

Steve waits until they’ve all confirmed they’re back safely before he says, “No more dives.  Probes only.”  No one disagrees.

 

——

 

_1700 hours_

“Bottoms up,” Steve says as their glasses clink together before he lifts his, taking a large sip.

 

“You can do better than that,” Johnny says, so he tips the rest of it down his throat.

 

The four of them drink—Steve, Peter, Johnny, and Quill.  “Je _sus_ , that’s cold,” Quill says.

 

“Tastes like it came from a mountain spring,” Steve says before he reaches over to the sample jug to pour more in each of their glasses.

 

“Just tastes like water to me,” Johnny says, “But yeah, very cold.”

 

“I love it,” Peter sighs.

 

“You just like it because it came from a planet that wasn’t Earth,” Johnny accuses.

 

Peter nods enthusiastically before he lifts his second glass and says, “Here’s hoping we don’t perish.”

 

“Okay, Thor,” Quill mutters, and they all laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is freaking me out that this story is almost over! I was so shocked to learn the other day that I started this in May. I was checking to see when I first published this, and Erin and I both just couldn't believe it. It feels like I started it yesterday. Also, I'm very excited that I actually managed to finish writing this. It's been a _long_ time since I completed a chaptered fic--I'm not counting the horror au, that took four seconds to write--and I'm pretty proud of that. I almost didn't, too. I guess I can tell you guys that now that I'm definitely done writing it. I'm working toward rewriting my old books again (hopefully, for a final time), and they've been haunting me big time lately, so it's been hard ignoring that fricking mantra in my brain while trying to power on through this fic. But, only three chapters left! I hope you're all enjoying this, and don't forget to leave your thoughts!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Icarus crew starts to come back together, to heal in their own ways as they explore the incredible moon around them.

_March 3, 2074_

_0700 hours_

_Steve: Halfway meeting at 1300 hours today._

_Johnny: I’ve noticed that you always hold these important meetings after lunch.  Is that by design?_

_Bruce: Food makes us less susceptible to hostile behaviors._

_Tony: Speak for yourself.  It gets me going._

_Johnny: That was—weird._

_Johnny: Don’t do it again._

_Steve: In other news._

_Sam: Getting snarky again.  Alright._

_Steve: Department meetings will be held after the halfway meeting has concluded, and thus all afternoon duties have been cancelled.  I will be checking in with all of you._

_Tony: Define departments._

_Johnny: Really, nimrod?  It’s me and you._

_Steve: Bruce will also be making rounds to schedule appointments for physicals._

_Peter: Aw, we have to make appointments now?_

_Bruce: Considering none of you has come in the last month, when you were supposed to, yes._

_Quill: Listen, I think I should be exempt._

_Bruce: The last time I saw you in my office was over four weeks ago.  No one is exempt._

_Steve: I expect all of you to arrive on time, so no dilly dallying during this morning’s tasks._

_Tony: Dilly dallying?_

_Peter: Old fart._

_Tony: WOAH_

_Tony: THAT’S MY CAPTAIN YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT_

_Sam: Bitches about to get ugly._

——

 

_0800 hours_

“I’m fine, Bruce,” Steve says when Bruce continues to stare at him, “Honestly.”

 

“You can’t lie to me,” Bruce says, “Not when the numbers are overwhelmingly not in your favor.  Your white blood cell count is down, your blood pressure is up, and you’ve lost a lot of weight.  I don’t even have to be a doctor to notice that.”

 

“Bruce—”

 

“ _Steve_.  I play this game with Tony all the time, stop it,” Bruce says, stepping away and opening a drawer, “I’m prescribing several different things.  I don’t care,” he adds when Steve starts to talk, “I will also be monitoring your calorie intake.  I know that we were all bound to lose some weight, but fifty pounds, Steve?  And that’s in under a year.  I’m concerned about your health, not _you_.”

 

“Well, that’s comforting,” Steve says, frowning as he watches Bruce go through different medications, putting some aside.

 

He knows he’s not doing well, can feel it every time he wakes up and can see it in the way Tony looks at him occasionally, but it’s been so difficult, closing his eyes and forcing himself through the door.  Half the time, it’s only Tony annoying him endlessly in the mornings that makes him get up.  What worries him most is not Bruce noticing now, but that it’s taken him so long, when this has been going on long before Wanda.

 

“Steve,” Bruce says, and Steve blinks, flinching when he finds Bruce right in front of him.  “Okay,” Bruce says slowly, “What’s going on?”

 

Steve shakes his head.  “It’s nothing.”

 

“Bullshit,” Bruce says, “I’ve let you mope around for most of this trip, keeping a few eyes on you, but this is getting out of hand.  Were you drifting, or did you black out?”

 

“What?” Steve says, getting off the table, “I’m not—”  He swallows his words as a wave of nausea rolls through him, and he tries to hide it by turning away.  “I’m _fine_.”

 

“Okay,” Bruce says, holding out a small bag, “Doses are on the labels.”  Steve turns back, takes the bag, and looks inside.  He starts to walk away when he sees the antidepressants, and he turns his gaze to Bruce, disbelieving.  “I will not be your warden,” Bruce says, “I’m not going to follow you around and make sure you’ve taken your pills.  But if this behavior continues, I will follow protocol and talk to Bucky about relieving you of your duties.”

 

“Bruce—”

 

“Steve.  You are showing a laundry list of symptoms of depression, and you have been for a few years.  It’s been better with Tony, more manageable, I can see, but you’re not in a good place right now.  Even you have to admit that.”  
  
Steve doesn’t respond, merely looks back down at the bag and closes his eyes.  He doesn’t want to do this anymore.  He doesn’t know how to.

 

“Alright,” Bruce says, setting his clipboard down and coming forward, one hand curling around Steve’s elbow, “Come on.”

 

“What—”

 

“I am not only your doctor, Steve,” he says, leading Steve toward one of the beds, “And while I am a licensed psychiatrist, I’m also your friend.  Can you talk to me?”

 

Steve nods slowly.

 

“Sit down, then.”

 

——

 

_1000 hours_

Tony finds himself asking Johnny for a minute and taking thirty as he walks away from Icarus, finds somewhere quiet to sit, and just gawks at the wonder of it all.  Stretched out before him is Europa, riddled with cracking ice and unyielding danger with a beast hanging in the sky, threatening them each day.

 

He never wants to go home.

 

He thinks of Rhodey, though, of his last videos, trying so hard to hide his fear in his excitement as they approached Europa, and he wonders where they’ll be when he finally returns, how Rhodey will react to seeing him.

 

Tony imagines he’ll call him a few names and hug him tight enough to make his ribs ache, and he wants nothing more than for that moment to come.

 

——

 

_1100 hours_

“Captain on the deck!” Sam yells when he sees Steve walk in.

 

“Captain, we’ve spotted a giant in the waters!” Bucky exclaims, not turning away from his desk.

 

“Did you watch that Moby Dick film again last night?” Steve asks.

 

“It’s so good,” Sam says, “Except for all of those terrible English accents.  What’s up, hot stuff?  You’re looking a little blue.”

 

“Feeling it, too,” Steve says, “Ah.”

 

“Little poet,” Sam says, smiling, “How can we help you?”

 

“How’s the weather look?” Steve asks, coming over as Bucky changes tactics, pulling up different screens.

 

“Our resident weather man has some excellent news,” Bucky says, spreading them out toward Sam.

 

“Clear skies with little chance of sunlight in the foreseeable future,” Sam says brightly, “We’re looking at smooth sailing until liftoff.”

 

“Anything on the horizon at all?” Steve asks.

 

“Sure,” Sam says, “But we’ll be long gone.  Europa is expecting a massive radiation storm in about five months time.”

 

“We would have almost arrived,” Steve says, “That seems a bit coincidental that we came beforehand.”

 

“Doesn’t it?” Sam says, “Honest to your god, Steve, I think someone out there in the universe was helping us out.  We wouldn’t have been able to land if we’d stayed on course.  We would have been forced to stay in Europa’s orbit for two weeks, maybe more, until the storm had safely passed.  Good thing you’re dating our resident genius.”

 

“Is it possible for this report to fluctuate at all?’

 

“Are you asking if we’re going to die?” Bucky says, looking back at him, “Because I ask Sam that every morning.”

 

“He does,” Sam agrees, “It’s a very morose start to my day.  _Good morning, Sam Wilson, how are you?  Are we going to die today?_ ”

 

“Good work.  Sleep well.  I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”

 

Sam straightens, looking over at Bucky with wide eyes.  “Did you just _Princess Bride_ me?”

 

“I know, you’re very lucky.”

 

“I very am,” Sam says, turning back to his work, “To answer your death question, Steve, yes, of course these reports can fluctuate.  We’re in space, which doesn’t play by the rules.  But, I’ve been gathering almost identical readings every morning.  I’m very confident that we’ll be okay.”

 

“Can you present your findings at the halfway meeting?” Steve asks, already turning back to exit.

 

“Can do, captain!”

 

“Sir, did you see that tail?” Bucky gasps, “She might be a hundred leagues long!”

 

“Don’t be hasty, master hobbit!  That’s inconceivable!” Sam cries, and Steve leaves smiling.

 

——

 

_1250 hours_

Steve checks his watch and then his messages before sighing and taking a seat at the table.  In all of his infinite wisdom, Tony decided that any and all of their stationary tables should be circle, to emulate the nobility of Arthurian times, and Steve still wants to punch him when he rambles on like that.

 

“I’m just saying,” he hears Tony’s voice echoing toward him now, “imagine the possibilities.”

 

“I am imagining,” Bruce says, “They appear bleak.”

 

“Only if you let them be,” Betty argues, “You can definitely make this awesome.”

 

Steve smiles.  Of all the things to happen as a result of them, Tony’s reinstated friendship with Bruce and Betty has been the best.  Steve noticed an almost immediate shift in his behavior when he started talking to them regularly again, and it’s been a welcome change.

 

“Steve,” Tony says as soon as he enters the operations console, “Hiking party with all of us when we get back.”

 

“That does sound bleak,” Steve admits, “Maybe a year after we get back?”

 

“Okay, fine, I can compromise,” Tony says, “But we definitely need to stay in touch once we’ve returned to Earth.  There’s no way I’m letting any of these asskickers go after all this shit we’ve been through.”

 

“Oh, Tony,” Johnny sings, “I didn’t know you cared so deeply.”

 

“Okay, maybe not all of us,” Tony amends before he drops into a seat next to Steve, setting a mug of tea down in front of him.

 

“Thank you,” Steve says, a little startled as he takes it.

 

“It’s herbal,” Tony says, “I have scheduled nap time now.”

 

Steve looks over at Bruce, who says, “It’s for him, not you, but he’s forcing you to join him, it sounds like.”

 

“If you’re going to make me sleep during the day, then I’m bringing the whole house down,” Tony threatens.

 

“If you just slept at night,” Bruce says, “This wouldn’t be a problem.”

 

“I have _things_ to do, Bruce, okay,” Tony says, turning to face him, “Important things.  You wouldn’t understand.”

 

“I know where you’re ticklish.”

 

Tony gasps loudly, falling back against Steve, who laughs softly and sets his mug down to avoid spilling it.  “For shame, Bruce Banner!”

 

“You almost said Robert,” Bruce accuses.

 

“I did,” Tony says, straightening, “But I like being your friend, so I’m not jeopardizing it.”

 

“Good behavior?” Johnny says, sitting, “How interesting.”

 

“Where is Peter?” Steve asks.

 

“He’s coming, he was tied up with Nat.  I think they baked something again.”

 

“Oh, they’re baked alright,” Peter says as he leads the way in.  Nat, Sam, and Quill are behind him, all carrying trays of delicious smelling food.

 

“Again, it took a lot of ingenuity and—well,” Nat says, pausing at the table.

 

“Strange ingredients,” Quill supplies for her, “But they’ve been tested, and they’re amazing.”

 

“Everyone’s required to try at least one,” Sam says as he sets down his plate.

 

Quill and Sam start passing out pastries while Steve checks his watch again, and then Bucky’s hurrying in at 1PM exactly.  “Sorry,” he says, reaching over to drop a mug of coffee in front of Sam, “I forgot to complete my flight report.”

 

Steve allows a little chatter as everyone tries their food, and then he says, “Okay.  We’ll go in a circle.  Tony?”

 

“Yeah, I know what one of the strange ingredients is,” he says, grinning as he chews, “Engines are toasty.  That’s a good thing,” he adds at a few bewildered expressions, “They’re prime and ready for liftoff in two months, and then we’ll be home sailing.  Johnny and I made a few patches recently, and we’ve got some more outer work to do on the hull, but Icarus is in incredible shape for what she’s been through.”

 

“Good to hear,” Steve says, “And inside?”

 

“We’ve got a full week scheduled of systems checks,” Tony says, “We start next week, and I don’t foresee any problems.”

 

“Thank you.  Bruce?”

 

“I sent out a calendar request to all of you,” Bruce says, “Please pick a time, and schedule yourself in for it.  Spots will disappear whenever someone selects one, obviously, so please plan accordingly.  I’ll have results by the end of the week.  For those of you that are testing Europa’s water, I’ve allotted extra time as we’ll be taking samples.”

 

“Betty?”

 

“I want to put something to the table,” she says, setting down a cookie, “An aquarium.”

 

“In favor,” Nat says immediately, slapping her hand against the table, “That’s amazing.  When do we start?”

 

“Hang on,” Steve says, “That’s a big decision.  How long are you looking to maintain it?”

 

“Until we get home,” Betty says, “If they don’t die first, obviously.”

 

“Betty,” Steve says, “That’s—can you do that?”  He directs his attention to Nat, who nods quickly.

 

“We’ve got two months left, yeah?” Natasha says, “I can start running simulations and tests now, look to get us up and running by the end of this month, hopefully.  If all goes well, and we only take a few, we won’t hurt Europa’s environment, and they’ll be able to survive.  What would be really awesome—”

 

“No,” Betty says, “We’re not taking an eel back.”

 

“I’m sorry, what?” Peter says, “There’s a fucking eel in the water?”

 

“There was a report sent out to everyone about the wildlife in Europa’s eastern ocean,” Steve says.

 

“Yes, I got very excited about the fish and immediately ran out to go find them with Johnny and Quill.  I forgot to read the rest of it, admittedly.  So there’s an eel?  Like, is that what it definitely is?”

 

“It has the same attributes,” Natasha says, “Same swim patterns and anatomy, as far as we can tell.  Without an actual autopsy on one, I won’t know for sure, but, hazarding a guess, yes, they’re very similar to our eels.”

 

“Bad _ass_ ,” Peter says, “We should definitely not disturb them.”  


“I agree,” Steve says, “I move to create the aquarium with a limited ecosystem and to not interact with the eels on anything more than a probe basis.”

 

“Okay,” Betty says, “Fair enough.  Other than that, the samples you guys are bringing back are incredible.  It’s more than I’ve ever imagined.  I’ve been including everyone on my reports.”

 

“Which are so freaking cool,” Sam says.

 

“He reads them out loud every night,” Bucky says, “It’s wonderful.”

 

“Don’t be an ass,” Sam says, throwing a cookie at him, “The shit we’re finding, man.”

 

“I know,” Bucky says, smiling fondly, and half the table erupts in an obnoxious clamoring of noise, “Oh, fuck off.”

 

“Moving on,” Steve says, “Natasha?”

 

“I’m in love with the aquarium idea, and it’s probably an appropriate segue way to tell you that I kidnapped a few of the fish and killed them.  For science!” she exclaims when Steve gapes at her, “I wanted to understand them, so I performed an autopsy on them.  I’m nearly finished.  I’ll send my report once it’s through, but summary version—their bioluminescence is energy.  It keeps them warm.”

 

“What,” Tony says, dropping his food.

 

“They—”

 

“Uh huh,” he says, “I heard you, just processing.”

 

“That’s—” Bucky says, staring at her with an open mouth, “Holy _shit_.”

 

“I know,” Natasha says, “They’re cool littler fuckers.”

 

“Wow,” Steve says, “That’s—that’s incredible.  Anything else?”

 

“No, it’s been taking up a lot of my time.”

 

“Excellent.  Sam?”

 

“Weather report,” he says, “We’re in the clear, basically.  I’ve been running radiation readings every morning, and I don’t see anything dangerous, even a little bit, approaching.  Of course, we’re in space, on an ice moon, with the most hostile planet above us, so that could change, but Steve and I have agreed on rules in order to eliminate any more casualties.”

 

“All EVAs that require more than a mile in length away from Icarus must be approved in the morning, after radiation readings have been conducted for the day,” Steve says, “And, to state the obvious, no solo missions.  These terms are nonnegotiable.  Bucky?”

 

“I just completed a flight pattern simulation before the meeting, and something came up.  Nothing major,” he says quickly, “But to maintain the same trajectory we originally had in mind for returning to Earth, we need to leave a week sooner.”

 

“Europa is in a funky place right now,” Johnny agrees, “What will an extra week do?”

  
“Put us a few months off target,” Bucky says.

 

“A few?” Sam asks.

 

“Seven,” Bucky says, and the table lets out a resounding groan.  “I know,” he continues, “Which is why I’m bringing it to the table now.  I know this shortens some of our experiments, but I think it’s necessary.”

 

“I agree,” Steve says, “I move to begin Earthbound procedures a week early.  Is anyone not in favor?”  No one protests, and so he says, “Thank you.  Peter?”

 

“So I’m not a botanist,” Peter says, “And I’ve really been trying to help with the majority of Wanda’s tasks, but some of the plants are near death.”

 

“If I may,” Quill says, leaning forward, “Thor could probably sing a plant back to life with his gorgeous accent, but I minored in botany once, majored in biology another time.”

 

“Oh god, please take over,” Peter says, “Dude, anything you want, I’m straight up murdering those poor plants.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll give it a go,” Quill says, “If that’s cool with you, Cap?”

 

“Absolutely,” Steve says, “Peter, please sit with Quill after your department meeting to discuss schedule changes.  I’ll approve them when you’ve finished.  Anything else?”

 

“Not really.  I’ve been helping Tony get ready for the systems checks.  I have finally finished rewiring the heating and cooling systems, though, so we can override them if need be now.”

 

“Thank someone,” Johnny mutters, “That was aggravating.”

 

“Indeed,” Steve says, “Johnny?”

 

“I have literally been learning _so much_ in the past two months.  I know that’s super nerdy, but I really just—I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone that’s let me tag along and get geeky with you.  This is also to butter you up so that you’ll more likely approve Quill’s proposal.”

 

“I want to hike Everest,” Quill says nonchalantly.

 

“Nope,” Tony says, “Just like the Atlantic, we’re not naming one of Europa’s mountain _formations_ after one of ours.  Also, that doesn’t do Everest justice.”

 

“Okay, the little teepee hut sticking out of the ground due northwest at some angle, then,” Quill says, “Over there.”  He points, and Steve sighs.

 

“Approved,” Steve asks, “But only if you take more than Johnny.”

 

“Rock on!” Peter exclaims, lifting both fists overhead, “I’m coming.”

 

“I would actually really love to volunteer for that,” Sam says even as Bucky starts nodding.

 

“Oh no,” Bruce says.

 

“Team bonding exercise!” Tony yells, vibrating with excitement, “Steve, come on, I can pitch this to be totally NASA-approved.  Let it happen.”

 

“Bruce?” Steve says.

 

“It’s a good idea,” Bruce mutters.

 

“All in favor for a group hike up Rainier?”

 

“Oh, you’re _dead to me_ ,” Tony says, and the whole table breaks out in laughter.

 

——

 

_March 7, 2074_

_2200 hours_

Sam looks up as the door opens, admitting Bucky, and he sticks a thumb in his book, letting it close as he says, “You’re back late.”

 

Bucky makes an exasperated noise and says, “Quill stopped me on the way back.  He wanted to go over some last minute ideas before our hike tomorrow.”

 

“You shouldn’t have told him you were an Eagle Scout then,” Sam teases.

 

“Honestly,” Bucky says before he twists out of his shirt, “I didn’t think that was a big deal still.”

 

“Hey, hot stuff,” Sam says, and Bucky’s lifted eyebrow lets him know that he’s not impressed.  “Oh, come on, sugar,” Sam whines, “You won’t let me call you any fun names!”

 

“My name is Bucky,” he says, changing into a pair of comfortable pants.

 

“Technically, it’s James,” Sam says, and then straightens, nearly dropping his book, “Can I call you Buchanan?”

 

“I will murder you,” Bucky threatens, grabbing his tablet and book and joining Sam on the bed.

 

“Buchanan!” Sam shouts, throwing his book onto the floor as he lunges across the bed.

 

“Sam!”

 

Sam catches him around the middle, winding his legs tightly around him as he starts tickling, and Bucky laughs loudly even as he tries to escape.  Ultimately, he gives in, huddled against Sam’s chest, and whispers, “I fucking despise you.”

 

“Aw, Buchanan, don’t be so sour.”

 

“That sounds _awful_.”

 

“Lies,” Sam says, releasing him, “ _and_ propaganda.”

 

He leans over to retrieve his book, so Bucky kicks him in the ass and sends him tumbling.  He falls onto his back as Sam lands in a heap, groaning, before he flops over, limbs in a mess on the floor.  “You’re the worst,” Sam says.

 

“I know you mean best,” Bucky says, “Chocolate thunder?”

 

“Oh ho!” Sam yelps, scrambling to get upright and back in bed, “I’ll show you what’s up!”

 

Bucky just grins and pulls him close.

 

——

 

_March 8, 2074_

_2000 hours_

“Christ almighty,” Tony says as he slams into the room, tossing his earbud toward the desk, “I’m fucking tired.”

 

“How was your shower?” Steve asks from his place on the bed, tipped onto his side.

 

“Delightful,” Tony hums, “I took an extra ten minutes, whoops.”

 

“So did I,” Steve admits, “It was—okay,” he says when Tony drops his towel.

 

“I miss you,” Tony says, and Steve’s already halfway out of his pants.

 

“It’s hard to believe it’s almost over,” Steve says after as he runs a hand over Tony’s arm, the blanket tossed haphazardly over them.

 

“Are you nervous about going back to Earth?” Tony asks, a question they’re constantly posing each other.

 

“Yes and no,” Steve says, “I’m eager to see what our life looks like.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“How you and I fit into Earth together, how _we_ work in the grander scheme of things.”

 

“We did go to space together,” Tony points out, “Pretty sure that makes us bound for life.”

 

“We’re in an isolated environment,” Steve says, “Things could change.”

 

“Steve,” Tony says as he pushes off his chest and hovers over him.  He pauses to kiss him slowly before he says, “Nothing is going to change between us.  I love you.  That’s—that’s _huge_ , and I’m not letting you go.  I’ll stalk you if you break up with me.”

 

Steve laughs at this, and Tony considers it a success.  “Thank you,” he says quietly, lifting a hand to curl around Tony’s jaw, thumb sweeping out over his cheek, “I’m lucky to have you.”

 

“You’re so bad at this,” Tony says.

 

Steve’s smile is so wide, his face aches, and he doesn’t know the last time he felt this at peace.  “I love you, too,” he says, “I do.  I just like to watch you squirm a little.”

 

“I can squirm,” Tony says, already shifting, and Steve smacks his thigh, tipping him back onto the bed.

 

“I’m tired,” Steve says, “Can we just sleep?”

 

“Absolutely,” Tony says quickly, and though Steve hates how eager he sounds at Steve willingly sleeping, he succumbs to the firm presence of Tony in his arms as he closes his eyes and tries to find the sun.  “Steve,” Tony whispers, turning until he can press a kiss against his sternum, “I’m right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not trying to rush this by posting again so soon, but I'm just so happy right now, and I wanted to celebrate by giving you guys a new chapter. I just graduated from yoga teacher training! I am officially a RYT-200 instructor, which means I finally will start getting paid for my Tuesday night classes at BYS, as well as a Monday night class coming up in September that I'm super excited for. Even more awesome, I'm going to be hosting a solar system themed workshop soon. We'll be flowing from Mercury to Pluto with sun salutations throughout and a little moon salute in the middle.
> 
> Anyway, enough rambling. Don't forget to leave your thoughts!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the close of the greatest interplanetary space travel mission in the history of humankind, the crew of Icarus pays homage to Europa.

_April 12, 2074_

_1000 hours_

Peter spends the walk to Wanda’s gravesite looking down, and so, when he reaches the small rock formation that they’ve made, he sits and looks up.  It feels like a lifetime since he last heard her voice, and he’s starting to forget what it sounds like, so he’s been watching some of her video logs to remind himself.  Her smile, though, is burned into his memory like a little burst of light.

 

“I’m so happy you got to be here,” Peter says softly, “Even just for a little bit.  It’s gorgeous.”  He’s not sure what exactly he’s talking about, whether it’s Europa herself, or the vast beauty of Jupiter above them.  He wonders what it will be like, back on Earth, with nothing in the sky but the moon and the sun.

 

“I’m scared to go home,” Peter says, “We’ve been busy almost every day here.  Our schedules are crazy, and now, with only a week and a half left, it’s almost been nonstop.  But after a few months, things will start winding down again.  I won’t be as distracted anymore, and—I’m sorry.  You don’t want to hear this.  I just miss you terribly every day.”

 

Peter finally turns his gaze away from Jupiter and down to the stones crusted over with ice, reaching out a hand to touch it lightly with his gloved fingers.  “We finally received a message from Pietro yesterday,” he says, his voice so low he’s nearly whispering.  He’s been unsure how to tell her this, how to put it into words, and it still makes his chest ache when he says, “He’s naming the baby after you.  Wanda.  You’ll live on forever.”

 

Peter sits there a while longer in silence, shifting until he’s sitting next to the stones before he looks up again, as though he’s out on a middle of the night escapade, while Wanda giggles at him to be quiet, all to stare at the wonders of this world.

 

——

 

_April 14, 2074_

_2000 hours_

_Quill: Okay, so._

_Bruce: I have some topics to raise, as well._

_Quill: I say we have another movie marathon._

_Quill: Lord of the Rings style._

_Steve: Reasoning?_

_Quill: We’re on a foreign planet, and that’s in a foreign world, so we should watch all three of them just to say that we had a movie marathon on a foreign planet that takes place in a foreign world._

_Tony: Are you stoned?_

_Peter: shhhhhhhh_

_Peter: remember that time wanda grew mary jane_

_Peter: hey guys, I had a girlfriend named mary jane one time_

_Peter: aw it capitalized my eye_

_Nat: IT’S AMORÉ_

_Nat: I want pizza._

_Quill: But think about the hobbits.  They got high a lot._

_Steve: Pick a day and time, and we’ll talk about if it’s possible._

_Sam: Are we just ignoring The Hobbit trilogy?_

_Quill: duh_

_Betty: Those weren’t nearly as good._

_Tony: Better music, that’s for sure._

_  
Betty: It was by the same composer._

_Tony: And somehow, that doesn’t mean anything.  Think about the Scandinavian fiddle._

_Tony: think about it_

_  
Bruce: I have to agree with Tony on this one._

_Bruce: Point one—book club._

_Johnny: YES_

_Johnny: YOU LITTLE SHITS_

_Johnny: YOU MAKE ME READ THESE CRAZY ASS BOOKS_

_Betty: What are we discussing this time?_

_Bucky: OH MY GOD_

_Bucky: THAT FUCKING BOOK_

_Steve: I HAVE TO AGREE._

_Sam: I love when you’re like this._

_Nat: steeb don’t yell you’re being obnoxious_

_Quill: Ents, guys.  Entssssss_

_Quill: I want an Entwife.  That’s what I want for Christmas.  Figure it out._

_Peter: that’s silly_

_Peter: they’re lost!_

_Peter: ha_

_Peter: ha ha_

_Tony: Oh lord, someone take that leaf away from him._

_Tony: I’m with Betty, what are we discussing this time?  I’ve read too many things since then._

_Bruce: Go Set a Watchman._

_Tony: OH THAT’S RIGHT_

_Tony: I’VE BEEN MAD ABOUT THAT BOOK MY ENTIRE LIFE_

_Peter: wait I read that I was mad too_

_Peter: why was I mad_

_Peter: stop capitalizing my EYES_

_Johnny: Atticus is a racist._

_Johnny: WHICH DOESN’T MAKES SENSE_

_Peter: johnnyyyyy shhhhh_

_Steve: Okay, so.  The next book better be something that doesn’t make me want to set it on fire.  Quill?_

_Quill: Right, dime.  You see what I did there?_

_Nat: shut up_

_Quill: This weekend, as a last hoorah.  It takes about twelve hours._

_Bruce: Extended editions?  Huzzah._

_Tony: Oh YES, that means more Aragorn!_

_Betty: It appears you have a thing for leaders, Tony._

_Bruce: Which is highly amusing, considering._

_Tony: This is nothing new.  I like to be told what to do._

_Johnny: No._

_Johnny: Nope._

_Johnny: Definitely not something I ever wanted to envision._

_Johnny: Nope, no, thank you._

_Steve: I just_

_Steve: why_

_Peter: I just can’t wait to be kiiiiiiing!_

——

 

_April 17, 2074_

_1100 hours_

“Cutting it close,” Betty says as Natasha backs into the lab, carrying a massive box in her arms.

 

“It wasn’t ready until last night,” Nat says, turning and making her way over to her desk, carefully setting the box down.  “How should we do this?”

 

“Cup transfer?” Betty asks, and laughs when Nat glares at her.  “Come on,” she says, “That’s what you do with goldfish.”

 

“These aren’t _goldfish_ ,” Nat says, “We didn’t get them at a fucking _fair_.”

 

“Do you have any better ideas?”

 

Nat is quiet for a few moments before she sighs loudly and says, “Only if it’s a big cup.”

 

Natasha stays with the box, reminding herself every few seconds not to lift the lid and peek inside until Betty finally returns with something suitable, and Nat lifts the box again, carrying it over to the wall.  An aquarium has been installed into the wall, much of its invention Tony’s doing, though it’s clearly from Nat’s brain.

 

She sets the box down on the floor and lays her hand against the wall, which activates a small screen next to the shatterproof glass set into the wall.  She types in her code, widens her eye for a retina scan, and then accesses the locks, waiting for the shatterproof glass to shift open enough so that they can reach inside, but the water there won’t spill.

 

“Ready?” she says, and Betty grins.

  
They spend the next twenty minutes slowly getting the bioluminescent fish acclimated to their new environment, and, when they’ve finally finished, the lab is a little brighter.  “They look okay,” Betty says, watching them swim in a group.

 

“I’ve been observing this particular group’s activity for a while,” Natasha says as she points to one of them, “See that one with the tear in its fin?  He doesn’t like this other fish that I left in the Atlantic, especially because he’s popular with those two ladies,” she points to two others.

 

“What did you do, lie on the ice and stare at them for hours on end?” Betty asks, and then laughs when Nat just stares back at her, “Oh my god, you did.”

 

“Shut up, asshole,” Natasha says, though she’s smiling when she knocks her hip against Betty’s, “Come on, let’s hit the lights and watch them for a while.”

 

“Right, they’re probably used to the dark,” Betty says even as she heads over toward her desk.

 

“Are you seriously making popcorn?” Natasha asks two minutes later, when she’s sat on top of her desk, watching the fish swim.

 

Betty sits next to her a minute later, setting the bowl of popcorn in between them.  “We only have four bags left,” she says.

 

“For shame,” Nat says, “One per year, and a celebratory one at the halfway mark.”

 

“Kind of sucks that we still have to be in space for another three years, doesn’t it?  With nothing to look forward to?”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Nat says, grabbing a handful, “There are exactly 1,107 days until I see Clint again.”

 

“Divide that into hours,” Betty challenges.

 

Nat is silent for two minutes before she says, “26,568?  However, that’s not exact because who knows when we’ll actually land, and how much time will pass between landing and being able to function again enough to see him.”

 

“Sure,” Betty says, “We’ll go with that.  Why not 1,106?”

 

“Leap year next year,” Natasha says, “Extra day.  He, uh—he got a dog.”

 

“Really?” Betty says, “When did that happen?”

 

“A while ago,” Nat admits, “I didn’t tell anyone except Sam.”

 

“Why Sam?”

 

“Riley’s been giving him grief about it being an emotional support dog, _which it is_ , but he’s having a hard time admitting that, so I asked Sam to see if Riley could cut back a little.”

 

“What’s its name?” Betty asks, and Nat smiles at her, thankful that she’s not pushing the topic.

 

“Pierre,” she says, and Betty starts laughing immediately.  “I knew you were a Tolstoy fan,” Nat mutters.

 

“It’s Bruce’s fault,” Betty says, “We’ve been doing a two-person book club since we met, and he likes to throw shit like Tolstoy and _Kafka_ ,” Betty groans his name like it’s something awful, “whenever I pick something particularly distasteful.”

 

“Define distasteful,” Nat says.

 

“He was being an asshole about genre fiction, so I picked a cheesy paperback romance with a hot, steamy man on the cover.  We read _Anna Karenina_ after that, so then I picked _Lolita_.”

 

“Shit,” Nat says, grinning, “You guys are a little twisted.”

 

“When I picked _Room_ , he got so upset that he picked _Ulysses_.”

 

“That’s just rude,” Nat says, “Had you at least read any Joyce before that?”

 

“ _No_ ,” Betty says, “Which is exactly the wrong way to get introduced to Joyce.  He did pick _The Dubliners_ eventually, though, so it wasn’t all bad.”

 

“Are you into Shakespeare at all?” Nat asks.

 

“Everyone always assumes that,” Betty says, “But not really.  Even most classical literature, I’d really just rather read contemporary.  Why, are you?”

 

“Clint’s a huge Shakespeare nerd, it’s absurd,” Nat says, smiling as she watches the fish change direction, “He made me promise that we’d take a vacation after I got back, go see a play in the Globe Theatre, and visit all the famous spots.”

 

“And will you?”

 

“Oh, it’s been planned for ages,” Natasha says, “He doesn’t know.  I sat down with someone a few months before I left.  We’re leaving for a year, actually.  I’m retiring, and Jane approved the time off for him, so we’re visiting a lot of Europa.”

 

“No way!” Betty exclaims, leaning their shoulders together, “That’s so exciting.  And Pierre?”

 

“Oh, the dog,” Nat sighs, “I guess I’ll have to figure that out now, too.  He’s such a moron.”

 

“You love him.”

 

“I really, honestly, truly do.  I can’t wait to see him again.”

 

Betty makes an obnoxious noise at her, but Nat just smiles and turns back to her fish.

 

——

 

_April 19, 2074_

_0700 hours_

“Okay, Jupiter-gazing is a cute date idea, but, it’s tea time, and I can’t exactly bring you tea,” Tony says as he sits next to Steve.

 

“You could,” Steve says, “You’re just not trying hard enough.”

 

“You wound me,” Tony says, scooting closer and nudging at him until Steve lifts an arm and drops it around his suit-bulky shoulders.

 

“Only eight days left,” Steve says softly.

 

“I’m not ready,” Tony says, “I want to stay here forever.”  


“Really?”

 

“Never,” Tony says, “Never in my _life_.  I want to just cover myself in dirt.”

 

“I miss the ocean.”

 

“No, the waves,” Tony corrects, “The sound of it.”

 

“I have a proposal,” Steve says, and then laughs when he can almost feel Tony go still at that word, “Not that kind, you idiot.”  Tony relaxes, shifting even closer, and Steve just smiles, leaning until he can rest his helmet against Tony’s.  “I want to sell my house and move closer to the ocean.”

 

“That sounds reasonable,” Tony says, “How close?”

 

“Like—sand instead of grass.”

 

“You should,” Tony says, trying not to sound too hopeful, but Steve must hear it because he laughs again, squeezing his shoulder.

 

“I want you to move with me.”

 

“Oh, thank god,” Tony exhales, “I thought you were being mean again.”

 

“I have never been mean to you!” Steve exclaims, pulling away from him.  Tony’s make this absurd face when he turns to look at him, and Steve just laughs louder, falling back even as Tony reaches for him, holding him up.

 

“Don’t do that,” Tony whines, “It’s murder trying to get up once you’ve fallen in these things.”

 

“You would know?”

 

“It’s happened,” Tony says, “I’d really rather not talk about it.”

 

“Did Bruce push you because you were bored, and thus annoying?” Steve asks, already smiling at the image of that.

 

“That was the first time,” Tony says, “The other two were my fault.  Can we talk about something else, you complete turd burglar?”

 

Steve howls at this, shoulders shaking as he laughs, so Tony shoves him over, and he lies there, his laughter quickly falling quiet as he stares up at the wild, dark expanse of space.  “’Mere,” he says, tugging at Tony.

 

“Oh, fuck you, fine,” Tony murmurs before twisting and dropping down onto his back next to Steve.  “Oh,” Tony says once he’s there.

 

“Right?” Steve says, “It’s almost like you’re back home.”

 

“I can’t see Jupiter at this angle,” Tony says.

 

“I know.”

 

They lie in silence for a few minutes before Tony whispers, “Hey Jay, play me some tunes.”

 

Jarvis pulls up a track filled with the sounds of waves lapping against a shore, seagulls cawing in the distance, and this low murmur like there are people all around them.  Steve closes his eyes and reaches over for Tony’s hand, tangling their thick, gloved fingers together.  “I love you,” he whispers.

 

“I know,” Tony says, and Steve squeezes his hand, “I love you, too.”

 

“Can our beach house be small?” Steve asks.  He can almost see it in his mind, this gorgeous creation of intricate stonework and unyielding, old wood.

 

“So, I have a degree in carpentry,” Tony says, and Steve immediately looks over.  “Maybe we could build it?”

 

“Yes,” Steve says, “Yes, oh my god.”

 

“Date idea, part two.  When we get sick of staring at space, let’s put on a forest in the relaxation rooms, and I’ll draw up blueprints while you map it out.”

 

“Date idea, part two, section a,” Steve says, “Sex beforehand.”

 

“You’re my favorite,” Tony says, and Steve can’t stop smiling.

 

——

 

_April 22, 2074_

_1400 hours_

“Are you ready to go home?” Bruce asks as he finishes capping a sample and stowing it away in their cooled container.

 

Tony finally gets the rock he’s been working on loose, and he straightens, starting to lift a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow when Jarvis gets it for him.  “Duh, in a spacesuit,” he mutters before he turns, “What?”

 

“Are you ready to go home?” Bruce asks.

 

“We’ve still got three years left,” Tony says, “Which seems crazy, okay, because, technically, we’ve been traveling in space for two and a half years almost.”

 

“Why do you say technically?”  


“It definitely doesn’t feel that way,” Tony says, “It feels like we’re stuck in time, like when we return, nothing will have changed.  I’ll be nearly fifty, Bruce!”

 

“You will not, calm down.”

 

“I can’t wait to see Rhodey,” Tony says, “I’m going to hug him every day for the rest of my life.”

 

“He’s going to get annoyed with you pretty quickly, I guarantee,” Bruce says, smiling.

  
“Oh, most definitely,” Tony says, “He’s going to want me booted right back up to space after about a month.”

 

“A week.  Let’s be realistic.”

 

“Ha!  Probably,” Tony agrees before he turns back to work on his rock again, “What about you?  Are you ready?”

 

“Honestly, it doesn’t really matter to me,” Bruce says, “I’ve got everyone I need right here, and I’m not particularly partial to Earth having knowledge of the rest of the universe.  I’d love to stay right here.”

 

“Do you think you’ll go back into space?” Tony asks.

 

“If they would allow it, yes,” Bruce says, “And I know Betty would, too.”

 

“That’s the deal, though, isn’t it?  You won’t go without Betty.”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“Makes sense.  Will you apply for the Ares Program?”

 

“No,” Bruce says, “I’ve been thinking about pitching a Venus mission to Jane.”

 

“Dude,” Tony says, straightening quickly and turning as fast as he can, “Let me work on that ship.  Oh my god, I have so many ideas.”

 

“That was my first thought,” Bruce says, “If she approves it, I want to bring you onboard to create and build the ship.”

 

“I’m not going with you,” Tony says.

 

“I know,” Bruce says, “I didn’t think so.  But I’d like your hands on a craft that’s traveling to somewhere so hostile.”

 

“Next up: Mercury.”

 

“You have to come if we go to Mercury.”

 

“We’ll both be so old by then, they’ll pay us to stop applying.  Regardless, I’m busy.”

 

“Too busy for Mercury?” Bruce laughs as Tony turns back to his rock.

 

“Steve’s got me building him a beach house,” Tony says softly, “And then widdling away our lives with our toes in the sand and our noses in books that smell good.”

 

“Is that what you want?” Bruce asks, surprised, “You don’t see yourself continuing to work?”

 

“Oh, I absolutely will,” Tony says, “But I was thinking of going on a consultant only basis.  I think it might work better for my murder tendencies.”

 

“Murderous,” Bruce corrects.

 

“No, murder,” Tony says, “I’m going to kill someone at NASA if I have to keep working with them every day, the assholes.”

 

“That’s fair.  Alright, talk to me about the Venus ship.”

 

“First of all, we’re naming it Roma.”

 

“Not Aphrodite?”  


“Shut up, or you’re off the committee.”

 

Bruce just laughs at him.

 

——

 

_April 27, 2074_

_0800 hours_

Steve looks around the round table at everyone gathered and inhales.

 

“He’s gonna do it,” Peter says, smacking Johnny.

 

“You ruin everything,” Johnny says.

 

“Hear, hear,” Quill agrees.

 

“Let’s run through it a final time,” Steve says.

 

“Well, that was lame,” Peter mutters.

 

“Johnny and I will be monitoring the engines,” Tony says.

 

“Quill and I will be monitoring the impact to Europa during liftoff,” Peter says.

 

“Sam and I will be monitoring Icarus’s trajectory as we leave Europa,” Bucky says.

 

“As well as?” Steve prompts.

 

“Steve,” Sam says, “We’ve got this.  We’ve gone through this a hundred times.  Can we just go home?”

 

Steve sighs, shoulders sagging a little as he leans away from the table and into his chair.  “We’ve done an incredible thing here,” he says, “We have gone where no human in the history of our race has ever stepped.  We have gone farther into space and visited _Europa_.  Now, we embark upon three more years in space, and I couldn’t be more proud of all of you.  We—”

 

“Are we there yet?” Nat mumbles.

 

Steve fights a smile.  “Alright, fine, let’s go.  No more rousing speeches about space exploration.”

 

“Thank god,” half of them groan together as they scramble to get away from the table.

 

Everyone is in position in under an hour, suited up and ready to go when Steve says, “Tony?”

 

“Engaging secondary engines,” Tony says, typing while Johnny watches him work on another screen, “Tertiary in 90 seconds.  Please standby.”

 

“Bucky?”

 

“Icarus has accepted the exit orbit maneuver.  Flight patterns at the ready,” Bucky says, reaching overhead to flip open a switch.

 

“Bruce?”

 

“Crew is maintaining expected vitals,” Bruce reports, “Though Peter is noticeably more excited than the rest of us.”

 

“So, everything’s normal, then,” Johnny says, and there’s a trickle of laughter among them.

 

“Tony?”

 

“Engaging tertiary engines now.  Johnny, how are we looking?” Tony asks.

 

“Beautiful,” Johnny says delightedly, “I love this ship.”

 

“Oh, she’s rumbling,” Tony quite nearly purrs, “Come on, old girl.”

 

“Europa is looking good,” Peter reports, “No signs of cracking.”

 

“Ice is pretty damn deep right here,” Quill says, watching his screens, “She should be okay.”

 

“Tony, please confirm liftoff,” Bucky says.

 

“Affirmative,” Tony says, and everyone lets out a cheer.  Steve’s beam is wide enough to ignite the sun.  Tony looks over at him with a matching expression, and Steve nods.  “Jarvis, let’s get her out of here.”

 

“As you wish, sir,” Jarvis says, and then he’s taking over, Tony and Bucky approving different things until Jarvis says, “We have successfully left Europa’s orbit, sir.”

 

Natasha starts crying, and Peter reaches a hand toward one of the small, round windows.  “Goodbye, Wanda,” he whispers.

 

“Fare thee well, Thor,” Quill says.

 

Steve smiles and says, “To Europa, a grand adventure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY MAGIC. I really can't believe that the adventure is over! Yes, you still have one chapter left, the surprise one, and who knows what it could possibly be. I'm literally just sitting here grinning. I'm so excited for you to read what comes next. But oh my gosh, here we are! Man, it has been a ride. Thank you so much to every single person that has read and commented on this fic. I really hope you've enjoyed it, and that it's left a little echo with you.
> 
> Now, because I'm going to be all weepy and sad that this is over at the end of our final chapter, I figured I'd put this little note here. I posted about [this](http://sleeponrooftops.tumblr.com/post/148995059624/okay-honesty-time-its-nothing-bad-dont-freak) on Tumblr recently, but the gist of that post is this--I will not be writing fanfiction for a little while, probably a long while. Hopefully a long while. After about three or four years on an extended break (I've been calling it a fight) from my books, I've been doing _a lot_ of work on revising it and basically helping it through a rebirth. It's nowhere near where it used to be, and I'm finally stepping back in. I worked on the outline for the first book all last week, and now it's time. Yes, I still love Marvel, and yes, it's entirely possible that I'll be back, but for now, I wouldn't expect anything new after the space au is done. There's a slight possibility for a merthur reincarnation au that I've been working on for probably over a year, and I've recently started rewatching _Merlin_ , but other than that, I'll be hanging out with dragons. Which, if you're curious, I'm still on Tumblr, so drop a line and ask me a million questions about the books, I adore talking about them.
> 
> Thank you so much, and don't forget to leave your thoughts!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years since their adventures on Europa, and one year after they've returned home, the crew of Icarus reunites.

_March 20, 2078_

_Earth_

_0800 hours_

Tony lets out an exasperated sigh when he checks the kitchen, the last empty room in the house, and finds it precisely that—empty.  “Steve?” he calls for what feels like the thirtieth time in the last minute, grabbing his jacket on his way to the door.

 

When he steps outside, one arm halfway into his jacket, he stops, smiling when he finds him, shoes in his hands, toes dug into the sand.  Tony pulls his other arm into his jacket and heads down the walkway, stopping at the edge so he doesn’t have to trudge through sand with his shoes on.

 

“Hey Cap,” he says softly.

 

Steve inhales slowly, letting the salt air fill his lungs, before he turns, his smile easy and warm when he sees Tony.  “Hey, sunshine,” he says, and Tony rolls his eyes.

 

“Okay,” he says, “Are you coming, or what?”

 

“Yeah,” Steve says, finally turning his back on the ocean and walking up toward Tony.  He stops at the walkway, grinning when Tony grumbles and leans down to kiss him.

 

“Happy?  Let’s go, we’re going to be late.”

 

“You’ve never been on time for anything in your life,” Steve says, stepping up onto the walkway and following him up to the house.

 

“Yes, that’s very true, but this is an important day.  God, you’re such a slow poke,” he adds when Steve pauses at their deck, turning back a last time, “It will still be there in three hours, Steve.”

 

“Listen,” Steve says, punching his shoulder, but he doesn’t continue speaking as they circle the house and make their way onto the gravel toward Tony’s absurd car.

 

The drive is short-lived, mostly due to how fast Tony’s going, but Steve allows it, just watching Tony come alive under the hum of the engine.  When they pull up in front of the restaurant, Tony immediately starts laughing.  “See, I told you it would still be there,” he says as he parks, gesturing toward the sea, which the restaurant sits on a cliff overlooking.

 

“Rhodey’s here,” Steve says as he gets out, and Tony starts shouting, making the most obnoxious noises as he throws his keys to Steve and runs across the parking lot.

 

“Oh, come on,” Rhodey grins, bracing himself as Tony lunges at him, giggling when Rhodey lifts him into the air, hugging him tightly.  “Every fucking day,” he mutters into Tony’s shoulder.

 

“I miss you every day!” Tony whines into his ear before he plants a kiss on his cheek and jumps off of him.  “I do,” he adds at Rhodey’s disbelieving face, stepping in to snuggle against him, “You’re like my own personal teddy bear.  I love _youuuu_.”

 

“Shut up, lunatic,” Rhodey says, though he does so fondly, “I love you, too.”

 

“I know, that’s the best part!”

 

“I come bearing friends,” Rhodey says to Steve as he approaches.

 

“Will you stop fucking singing that song?” Nat’s voice floats over to them, shortly followed by Clint, singing poorly and off-key.

 

“I cannot do this thing you ask, for I’m hopelessly devoted to you!”

 

“Jesus mother of _fuck_ ,” Natasha says, and then breaks into a smile when she sees Steve and Tony, “Hey!”

 

“It’s so good to see you,” Steve says, embracing her, “When are you leaving?”

 

“Three days,” Nat says, beaming as she releases him and turns to Tony, “Clint can’t wait.”

 

“Neither can you,” Clint says as he comes up, shaking hands with Steve and Tony before he wraps an arm around Nat’s waist, tugging her close.  She turns to kiss him, and Steve smiles at how openly happy she is.

 

“Have you heard from the others?” Nat asks.

 

“Yeah, Sam’s on his way,” Steve says, pulling out his phone as it starts ringing, “And that’s for you.”

 

“Oh, come on,” Tony mutters when Steve hands him the phone, “Steve’s phone, the asshole speaking.”

 

“Tony!” they all hear Johnny’s voice boom through the phone, and then Tony’s walking away as he talks to him.

 

“How’s the house?” Clint asks.

 

“Amazing,” Steve says, “We finally finished the roof, so we’ve been furnishing for the last month.  It’s nearly done.  We’ll have to get together there when you get back.”

 

“Yeah, definitely.  Oh, there’s a car.”

 

Steve turns and says, “Bruce and Betty, I think.  Did you hear Jane accepted their Venus proposal?”

 

“No freaking way,” Natasha says, “Betty must be beside herself excited.  She’s been working on it like you wouldn’t believe.”

 

“I hear she’s over a lot to hang out with the fish,” Tony says as he walks back over.

 

“She loves them almost as much as Pierre does,” Nat says, “He sits in front of them all the time.”

 

“He’s mesmerized because they’re fucking _awesome_ ,” Clint says, “Glowing fish, who knew.”

 

“ _Bruce_!” Tony hollers.

 

“Tony, did you hear?” Bruce shouts.

 

“He doesn’t know yet,” Steve says, and Tony looks over at him in confusion.

 

“We’re going to Venus!” Betty’s shrill excitement carries across the lot.

 

“What the fuck!” Tony yells, and then starts running toward them.

 

Sam, Bucky, and Riley arrive as Bruce and Betty are walking over, Tony settled comfortably on Bruce’s back.  “Steve, they’re going to Venus,” he says longingly.

 

“Do you really want to go back to space?” Steve says with a knowing look.

 

“Never,” Tony says, grinning even as Bruce drops him.

 

“I have an official offer to make you,” Bruce says, turning, “Wanna get funky on Roma?”

 

“That sounds highly unofficial,” Nat points out.

 

“Yes, oh my god, took you long enough to ask.  Steve told me I either had to accept it or find a different job.  I’m _annoying_ , apparently.  You don’t even know the real definition of annoying, but it just pulled up, so there you go,” he says, pointing toward a car whipping into a space.

 

“Home skillets!” Sam shouts as he approaches them.

 

“Oh, I have missed you, my sweetness,” Nat croons, releasing Clint to go greet him.

 

“Yo, Bruce,” Sam says once he’s said hello to everyone, “I’m gonna proposition you.”

 

“I already asked Jane,” Bruce says.

 

“Wait,” Steve says, turning to Bucky, “You’re going back up?”

 

“Somehow, he convinced me,” Bucky says, “We’ve applied to pilot Roma.  I heard you’re designing her,” he says to Tony, who nods, “We’re in good hands, then.”

 

“I’ll do my best to keep you safe,” Tony promises.

 

“Riley, good to see you,” Steve says, shaking hands with him, “How’ve you been?”

 

“Putting up with these assholes trying to leave me again,” Riley mutters, smacking Sam, “Sticking me with that lame ass bird again.”

 

“Redwing loves you,” Sam says.

 

“He bites me,” Riley says.

  
“Exactly.”

 

“Icarus _crew_!” Johnny hollers.

 

“Tell me that isn’t Peter Quill with you!” Sam yells when he turns, “Oh my _lord_!”

 

He jogs off toward Johnny, Peter, and Quill, laughing and hugging them all before he leads them over.  “Man, you wouldn’t believe the kind of shit Sue gave me when I tried to drop an app for that Venus mission,” Johnny says as he reaches them, “She told me, under no circumstances, was I ever allowed to go into space again.  And then Peter got involved.”

 

“Please don’t do it to me,” Bruce murmurs.

 

“So instead we’re going to Mars.”

 

“Shut up!” Tony exclaims, turning to Peter, “You must be freaking out.”

 

“Mars, Tony,” Peter says, “I can’t wait.  I literally cannot wait.  We leave in a year.”

 

“That’s amazing, congrats, kid.”

 

“Are you honestly counting heads right now?” Tony asks when he sees Steve looking around.

 

“I think that’s everyone,” he says.

 

“Icarus, back together again,” Johnny says, grinning wildly.

 

“So, did you relocate?” Sam asks Quill.

 

“Man, I tried to go back to Australia, I really did, but I couldn’t do Weapon X without Thor, so I joined up with you shits.”

 

“Shut the front door.”

 

“Heck yeah, Jane took me right in when I told her my sob story.  The deal’s officially closed.  I’m a valued employee of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration,” Quill says proudly.

 

“Jesus, you’re so cheesy,” Nat says.

 

“I’m full of holes, watch me go,” Quill says, darting past her to say hello to Clint.

 

“I don’t even know,” Johnny says, shrugging, “He’s been crazy the whole ride.  He just got in from hiking the fucking AT trail four days ago.”

 

“Smelled _nasty_ ,” Peter says, “Worse than fucking being in space for six years.”

 

“Five and a half,” Tony says, “Steve gets touchy when we pretend it was longer than it actually was.”

 

“That last year was miserable,” Steve says, “I’d like to not repeat that or ever believe it took longer than a year.”

 

“That last month was good, though,” Bucky chimes in, “Excellent team bonding exercises.”

 

“They really stimulated the mind,” Nat says.

 

“We’re definitely going to utilize them on the way home from Venus,” Betty says.

 

“Fuck off, okay, all of you,” Steve says, and everyone starts laughing.

 

“Alright, I’m starving,” Tony says, “You guys coming?”

 

“Eggs and bacon!” Johnny says from the front, heading toward the restaurant.

 

Tony starts to follow when he notices Steve turning, looking toward the ocean, and he smiles, stepping away from the group to walk over to him.  “Hey,” he says, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together, “Everything good?”

 

Steve nods, lifting his gaze and squinting.  Tony follows it, spotting the moon, pale in the cool blue sky.  “I’ve never been to the moon,” Tony says.

 

“I always thought it was incredible,” Steve says, “I still do, but—” he sighs.

 

“I know,” Tony says, “Nothing is quite as fascinating as Europa.”

 

“As Jupiter,” Steve says, and Tony’s smile grows as he tugs at Steve until he turns.

 

“I’m good right here with you,” Tony says, and Steve kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are actively the most amazing readers in the world. You've all been so incredible and excited and just as into this as I was, and I'm very grateful to all of you. I hope you enjoy this last installment, and thank you so much for reading!


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